


Now that We've Lived to See Tomorrow

by Aishling



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Abduction, Angst and Humor, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Torture, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 103,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aishling/pseuds/Aishling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say to be a good soldier is to expect the unexpected. That's fine in theory, but can one honestly be prepared to handle whatever life throws at them? As the Reaper threat returns and 'Expect the unexpected' starts to become an unwritten rule instead of just a simple saying, Shepard and her crew may need to rethink what exactly it was they signed up for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before I go any further, I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do not own recognizable characters of the story and make no profit what so ever from posting this; it is solely for the enjoyment of writing that I wrote this story. Any views expressed in this story should not be taken as my own personal views and no offense is meant towards anyone of a differing opinion. The song Little Bird, Little Bird is the work of Elizabeth Mitchell and Smithsonian Folkways Recordings.
> 
> A friendly heads up, I will be tweaking certain aspects of the Mass Effect game and story for the purpose of logic in my story. Nothing severe like giving canon characters ridiculous abilities or changing their species or something; just fiddling with the length of time in which the plot of the Mass Effect games took place (like how many months pass in the course of Mass Effect 2).  
> I will also do the occasional fiddling with the order of events of some missions, like changing what point they come in the story versus what point in the game they were accessible or happening in. If this offends anyone I apologize greatly and recommend you not read this story.  
> Also, try to bear with me in my attempts of understanding in the technology of Mass Effect; I swear I am trying. I'm sorry that I am switching things around, but for the purpose of plot points, I needed to make some adjustments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALERT!: I am going to be changing the numbering of the chapters. Now instead of them being long chapters, I am dividing those long chapters into two smaller chapters each. So now Chapter 1 has been divided into two chapters, making it Chapter one and two, and the rest of the story follows as such. The content of the story is still the same, the only thing that is changed is the chapters numbers and the fact that now events you may have read all together in one chapter have been broken into two parts. I did this after being informed by readers that the long endless chapters were a tad off putting for anyone looking for a fun read rather than a novel a day.

_At first there was nothing but silence…_

 

… _and then came the screaming…_

Air slammed into her lungs with enough force to nearly knock it back out again. Gasping, her eyes flew open to a blue sky smeared with billowing pillars of smoke. The sunlight was blindingly bright, making her screw her eyes up with a wince. Everything hurt; everything ached, from her neck and the back of her head to her chest and her limbs. The slightest flex of a single muscle made her cringe. She didn't want to move; not until the world stopped spinning around her or at least picked a slower pace. It would help if it stopped shaking too.

There was a faint ringing and a growing pressure pressing against her eardrums that was growing increasingly annoying and not helping the pounding in her head in any way. With a groan, she sat up and dragged a hand over her forehead, massaging her brow gingerly. She felt disoriented and heavy, like her brain was floating in molasses. The throbbing in her head made her feel off balanced and dizzy and she swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to be sick. She moaned and dragged her legs up to her chest and rested her head on her knees. Hunched over, she rubbed at the back of her neck and attempted an experimental stretch; it stung but she could suck it up and deal with it for now. She would have liked nothing more than to lie back down and curl up until the aching stopped, but the rumbling of the ground beneath her was growing and as the slightest amount of the haze in her mind cleared, one thought pushed its way forward that made her head snap up with a start: _The ground was not supposed to shake!_

Chaos was all it could be described as; sheer chaos. People were running this way and that, some pushing each other out of the way, others grasping hands and attempting to stay close, stay together. All of them were screaming, crying out in terror, but the sound was distorted, muffled almost, like she was hearing it from under water; yet the ringing came in clear and strong. Her ears might as well been stuffed full of cotton for how hard it was for her to sort out a single noise with that long, persistent ringing tone drowning it all out.

In alarm she struggled to her feet on shaky legs and stumbled back a few paces as people shot by her in a stampede. Behind them, a cloud of black hovered in the sky, still a ways off, but gathering speed at an alarmingly rate. It shrunk and stretched out of shape as it grew nearer when suddenly some of it broke away and shot towards the fleeing crowd…it was a cloud of bugs…

A few stragglers shrieked as it descended on them, some crying out in pain before stopping dead in their tracks as they were passed over by the swarm. They looked like posed mannequins; some mid run, others on the ground in the middle of trying to stand back up.

Something slammed into her hard, knocking the disoriented girl over. Looking up, she found herself staring into the face of a frightened woman. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears, blonde hair hanging over her eyes and matted to her face in sweat and spit. Behind her trailed a little boy, no more than seven, who clung to the woman's waist like an extra appendage. He peered cautiously around the woman at the girl, his eyes wide and his small frame trembling, nothing but a slip of a boy in a pair of overalls with dirty knees. Tears were brimming at the corners of his eyes but they did not fall.

The blonde, presumably the boy's mother, lunged at the girl and grabbed at her wrists, yanking her roughly to her feet. She latched onto the girl's shoulders and shook her, shouting something distance and incoherent. When she got no response, she hiccupped and shook the frightened girl again more desperately, her nails digging into flesh as the ringing and growing pressure in the girl's ears reached a crescendo.

As though an invisible bubble had been pressing against her eardrums, there was a loud pop and then all at once the sound came rushing into her ears and she could hear everything crystal clear. The harsh bangs of bullets puncturing the air and the horrifying buzzing of the swarm nearly drowned the screaming of the people with their random shrieks and sobbing.

A sharp sting radiated across the side of her face and it took her a few seconds to realize that the woman in front of her had just slapped her, "Don't just stand there," she cried, "Do you want to be caught by those things too?!"

"Wha…" the girl's voice sounded hoarse and weak to her own ears and she wondered how she hadn't noticed before how incredibly dry her throat was, "What's going on? What _are_ those things? _Where am I?!"_

"There's no time to explain, we have to—,"

" _Mommy!"_

The little boy tugged at his mother's sleeve and began glancing back and forth between them and the enclosing swarm of insects. "Mommy, where's daddy? He said he was coming with us. Why isn't he with us?" He tugged at the woman's shirt again and whimpered, "I'm scared!"

"It's okay, Mikhail," 'Mommy' kneeled in front of her son and rubbed his back soothingly, "D-don't be scared sweetie. Mommy's right here, everything's going to be okay." She pulled him towards her and he wrapped his arms around her neck, "Everything is going to be A-okay. Daddy will catch up; we'll meet him at the safe house, you'll see." She tried to smile at him but her voice rung hollow in that promise.

She picked Mikhail up and whipped back around to face the girl. "We can't stay here!" 'Mommy' declared, once again grabbing onto her arm, "come on, we have to reach the safe house." They all took off at a run, the blonde dragging her along by the vice-like grip she had on her wrist.

They rejoined the fleeing crowd as it twisted and turned through any given path or opening that they could find among rows of nearly identical housing. The sky was streaked with smoke and falling debris, leaving behind a stale and charred taste with each mouthful of air they took. People were scrambling over crates and even taking shortcuts through open doorways to run through people's homes in an effort to get away. Small fires had broken out here and there and no one made any attempt to put them out, instead abandoning the flaming various wreckage and darting away. Small children were juggled in their parent's arms as they frantically tried to get them to the front of the crowd, to get them as far away as possible from the swarm and the havoc it was leaving in its wake. 'Mommy' continued to drag the girl along as she carried Mikhail under one arm like a sack of flour and bounded over crates and boxes like he weighed nothing at all.

It occurred to the girl that she didn't know where they were all headed to or why she should even trust this woman and her child. Everything was happening so fast and her head felt like it was full of static, her vision was still blurry and her headache was making it too hard to really focus on anything for very long. All she knew was that her legs were aching so badly now and her muscles protested with every step she was forced to take, but she couldn't stop. Every time she slowed down even the slightest bit, the blonde would yank on her arm with surprising force and yell over her shoulder a hoarse and stern "Come on!" How was the weight of her child not slowing her down? How could the mother not feel the same exhaustion she did? Was the drive to save her son that powerful that she could push herself to the limits all in an effort to succeed? Would the pain in the girl's aching knees not bother her as much if she had a child to protect like the mother before her?

They took several twisty turns around corners and the alleyways between some houses and it seemed that for the moment they had lost their winged pursuers. The screaming did not cease though, and the mayhem around them was getting worse, not better.

There was a loud boom followed by a sudden creaking of metal and she collided into the woman's back as they came to a quick and unexpected halt just as a door shot clean off its hinges. It hurtled across a yard towards them like it had been spring-loaded and the girl shrieked in terror. In a flash, the mother twisted around and wrapped the girl up in her arms, her son sandwiched between them as the broken door whipped past them, barely missing 'Mommy's' shoulder by an inch.

Wrapped up in those strong, steadfast arms, the girl realized how badly she was shaking. They stood there for a moment with her face pressed into the crook of 'mommy's' neck and she drank in that moment of safety, of security. Mikhail's mother smelt of vanilla and ginger and it soothed her. She almost gave into the urge to hug the woman back and take in as much motherly comfort as she could when the woman relaxed her hold and stepped back.

"Some trigger happy moron must have misfired into a house," the woman growled, "I don't care what they say; giving a someone a gun doesn't do a damn thing to protect them if they don't know how to use the blasted thing!" She glared at the broken remains of the door before directing her attention to the girl. "It's okay," she said, though her voice had lost none of its urgency, "I've got you; you're going to be alright." She reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind the girl's ear with as much tenderness as she probably used with her own child. "You're shaking like a leaf; you scared?"

The girl nodded silently. For reasons she couldn't explain, it hurt her pride to admit she couldn't muster enough courage and resolve to keep herself from quaking like a frightened child.

The woman took notice, "Don't be ashamed," she chided softly, "There's nothing wrong with being scared." She tilted the girl's face up towards her and looked her square in the eyes. "Would it help if I said I was scared too?"

She got another nod in response.

"Well I am, so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Just stick with me and I promise you'll be just fine. I won't let anything happen to you," she scooped Mikhail back up and settled him on her hip, "to either of you." People were shoving past them, jostling them around but the mother's focus was solely on her son and this girl she had stumbled across in the grass.

"B-but," the girl faltered, pulling away from 'Mommy' a little bit "but…," she glanced back over her shoulder at the smoke and flickering gleam of fire, each gunshot that rang out making her jerk and twitch with surprise.

"Look at me, _look at me!"_ the woman roughly grabbed her by the chin and jerked her head back towards her own. She was panting quick and heavy, sweat beading on her brow and running down her face. It trailed along the chain of a necklace peeking out of her shirt; perspiration blotting spots under her armpits. The exhaustion was catching up to her. "We have to keep going forward, you can't worry about what's back there or you will only get caught." She smoothed her hand across the side of the girl's face gently, "It looks like you were knocked around some."

"I do?"

She nodded, "There's some bruising around your eyes and face," she pulled back one of the girl's sleeves, "all over your arms too. Did you fall when you were running? People were doing an awful lot of shoving; did some knock you down? Is that why you were just sitting there?" She trailed off and stared at the girl for a moment, a puzzled expression coming over her face. "You know… I don't recall ever seeing you around the colony before. I didn't think any new colonists would be coming in this month. What's your name?"

"What?" the girl blinked, "Oh! My name? It's…it's…" cold dread seeped into her body and it felt like the bottom of her stomach had dropped out. "My name is…" she wracked her brain for an answer and was horrified to find none forthcoming. _What_ _ **is**_ _my name?_

Shock tinged with something akin to pity came over the woman's face, "You don't even know, do you?"

"N-no," the girl stammered, "I know this one. J-just give me a minute; it'll come to me. It's…." she whipped her head about frantically, as if the answer was going to appear written across the air in front of her, "…I don't know…I…I don't … _who am I?!"_ How could she not even know her name? She didn't even know where she was. She had just opened her eyes and been swept up in an all the commotion with no time to think of anything else. There hadn't even been time to question why she had woken up outside and why everything had been so unfamiliar to her in the first place. And to top it off, she didn't even know her own name?! In all the confusion, she hadn't even noticed such vital information was missing. It wasn't like people double checked that they knew who they were whenever they woke up, now did they?!

She was hyperventilating now; taking quick, big gulps of air that almost seemed tangibly too big for her to swallow. The ache it caused in her chest was shooting straight through to her lungs. Her face broke out in a cold sweat and she felt like her insides had turned to lead. She didn't know who she was. She didn't know her age or what she even looked like. She brought her hands up to her face and ran them along every groove and indentation as if she expected that to give her an idea of what her face might look like. She tugged at her hair, yanking out strands of black, holding them up to her face as though they might hold the answers. She pulled at her clothes; even the blue sweater and jeans she had on didn't spark any recognition within her.

"Hey, calm down," Mikhail's mother put her hand to the back of the girl's neck and pulled her in close; pressing their foreheads together. "You're panicking. Now take some deep breaths. In….and out, okay?" she coaxed the girl to follow her lead, and the girl notice how both of their breathing shook and rattled in their chests and came out in wheezes, "In…out…there we go," 'Mommy' smiled encouragingly. "You might have just hit your head or something. Don't worry about it for now; I know where we are and I know the way to the safe house. When we get there surely someone will have some answers for you. For now you are in my care and that's all that matters, that's all you need to know. Now I need you to keep moving and to stay calm—," she stopped short and the color drained from her face. "They found us…"

The girl turned around and sure enough, the angry swarm of insects was rapidly approaching now, flying over the abandoned bodies of previous victims and closing in on them.

"We have to move," the blonde woman shouted, "we have to move now!" She grabbed the girl and shoved her ahead of herself, pushing her to run as fast as she was able, "We can't let them catch us!"

"What do they want?!" the girl cried.

"I don't know and I'm not about to stick around to find out. Just _run_!" She took them through pathway after pathway, weaving and bounding over broken crates and discarded possessions as they sought to rejoin the stampeding masses.

The throng of people was dwindling, some having already outrun to safety ahead of the rest, and others having tripped or fallen behind and been caught by the swarm. The air crackled with more gunfire. It whistled and popped around them and shouting could be heard in the distance.

"Look out!"

There was a loud crack as something massive flew by overhead, casting an ominous shadow along the ground, and suddenly two large trees came crashing down, toppling against a few houses and causing a roof to cave in. The impact was enough to send broken branches and scraps of metal flying every which way as people dived out of the way and the girl was shoved forcefully to the ground with Mikhail as his mother threw herself over them.

From on top of her, 'Mommy' groaned and shifted her weight a bit so she wasn't crushing her two charges. She looked down on them both and tried to smile but it came out as more of a wince. She leaned over them, a glint of silver swaying in between her and the girl as her necklace spilled out of her shirt and dangled an emblem on a long skinny chain inches over the girl's nose, making her go crossed eyed trying to focus on it in her dazed stupor.

"Are you both okay?" the woman asked.

"Um…yeah…," the girl nodded as 'Mommy' got up, "I'm fine," she looked over at the little boy sitting next to her, "How about you?"

He still looked like he might start crying at any second, but he nodded nonetheless, "I-I'm okay…"

"Good," His mother tugged him up off the ground and held a hand out to the girl.

The girl grabbed the proffered hand, but something gave her pause; something was trickling down her wrist and running along the underside of her arm, seeping under her sleeve. Standing, she pulled her hand away and looked at it. Her wrist and arm were sticky with skinny, veiny streams of red; blood. She glanced up at her protector questionably and inhaled sharply at what she saw.

'Mommy' stood before her ever the embodiment of strength in hellish times, a rapidly growing stain spreading across the torn sleeve of her right arm.

"You're bleeding!" the girl exclaimed, reaching out and tugging the ripped cloth back, "You're hurt!"

"Mom?" Mikhail reached out for his mother's arm, but she gently held him at bay with a hand pressed to his chest, "Mommy, you're hurt?"

'Mommy' winced and shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as she could, "It's nothing. Something must have nicked me is all." Clammy hands ran along her arm and she bit back a hiss, gritting her teeth.

"But there's this metal bit in it!" the girl cried, running a finger over the protruding shard. Without thinking, she prodded at it and a fresh stream of blood gushed out over her fingers. "Shit! Oh man, it's really bad, what if you bleed out? What if you—?"

A warm hand came down over her own, "we don't want to worry Mikhail," 'Mommy' admonished softly. She turned to her son, Mikhail still trying to get a good look at her wound, "Mom's just fine, kiddo," she assured him, "We can worry about it later; when we get to the safe house."

"We're trapped!" A man's voice cried out from the front, causing the three of them to whip around.

Ahead of them, the trees laid broken over each other across the path they had been following. One of the houses they had landed on was actually ripped partially out of the ground and twisted somewhat on its side. The twisted wreckage of metal and bark effectively barred them from going any further.

"We're blocked off," the man who had spoken before grit out, "it's a dead end."

"What are we going to do now?" a near hysterical woman asked from the right.

"We can't go back the way we came," another man pointed out from the left.

"If we had headed for the fields, we wouldn't be pinned like this!"

"Don't look at me I was following _you!"_

"And I was following _you!"_

"Everybody _shut up_!"

Everyone's head snapped towards the back.

Mikhail's mother stood tall and commanding; her form backlit by a horizon of smoke, fire, and afternoon sunlight as blood continued to trickle down her arm. "Everybody shut up and calm down! We can make it out of this." She took several steps forward and faltered, wobbling a bit; she was most likely becoming weak from blood loss. "The last thing we need is everyone screaming and yelling like a bunch of idiots! We can't afford to lose anytime panicking and arguing. We can make it out of this, but we have to work together. Now…"

She trailed off; the buzzing was back. A second wave of fleeing masses was running their way, and they were inadvertently leading the swarm right towards them. Just like that, order was lost once again.

"Here they come," someone screamed.

"Let's move!" Mikhail's mother cried, tugging her son and the girl forward, "We'll climb over the trees, every able bodied person start lifting up the one besides you. Let's go, go, go!"

People frantically ran towards the fallen trees, grabbing hold of a select few and lifting them up to grab the top, those who made it over reaching back to grab the next wave of people passed up. Men and women began lifting their children into the air and pushing towards the front, desperately trying to get their kids up over the trees and out of harm's way.

"Come on, people," 'Mikhail's mother urged, panting and gripping her arm in pain, "move faster! There's isn't much time!" She pushed Mikhail and the girl ahead of her, "You two get going."

"No!" Mikhail protested, grabbing onto his mother tightly, "I don't want to leave you!"

"Mikhail, don't argue with me!"

"No," Mikhail persisted, hugging his mother tighter, "I won't leave you!"

"We don't have time for this," his mother glanced at the impending swarm, looking out over the burning buildings and the people that had already been snagged. The approaching crowd behind them hadn't managed to put enough distance between themselves and the insects and they were quickly caught up in a cloud of fluttering, buzzing blackness. Men, women, and children stuck in place, their faces frozen in horror, their arms outstretched towards any salvation they had hoped they could find. The gunshots in the distance were dying down; their defenses most likely having already been picked off.

"Nothing's going to stop them…" she whispered.

She turned to the girl, but she was staring more through her than at her, her eyes glassy and distant. They were eyes devoid of any happiness, devoid of hope. Her mouth opened slightly and her lips trembled. She took a few shuddering breathes and closed her eyes against an onslaught of emotions. When she opened them again, her face was hard in bitter resolve as she looked once more between the swarm and her son.

The girl searched her face and felt her blood run cold. That determined look in the woman's eyes, surely she couldn't actually be thinking of—, "No…" she whispered, stepping towards the woman, eyes pleading, "No, you can't do this!'"

'Mommy' kneeled down in front of her son and pulled him into a tight hug, her face buried in his hair like she was trying to memorize his scent, the way he felt in her arms, "My big brave boy," she whispered, squeezing him snug against her, the blood on her arm seeping into the denim of his overalls. The blonde stood up and looked at the girl, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Please," the girl begged, "there's has to be some other way…" she reached out to the woman.

'Mommy' wrenched herself out of her reach at the last moment, the girl's hand just barely grazing her collar bone and something gave way with a snap into the girl's hand.

"My husband's name is Richard," the woman began, her voicing wavering, "We were supposed to meet at the safe house. If you should find him, tell him I…" a sob escaped her throat and she gave a sad, watery smile, "…I tried…"

Without a word, the woman suddenly shoved her son forward into the girl's arms then turned and ran, leaving the girl holding nothing but a crying child and a broken necklace.

"Mommy!" Mikhail screeched as the girl screamed out after the woman's retreating back, "No!"

Inside her head, the girl was screaming. ' _Don't leave me_ ,' she pleaded, her arms wrapped tight around the thrashing child _'you protected me, you mean safety,_ _ **don't leave me like this**_ _!'_

Snatching up a large broken branch, the blonde raced towards the swarm and began swinging and slashing through the air wildly with all her might, scattering the swarms as they honed in on her. Grunting with exertion, she knocked some out of the air one after another, trying to keep moving as sporadic as possible to stay out of their reach.

"Mommy!" Mikhail struggled in the girl's grip, scratching and kicking uselessly and even biting her, but she did not let go, simply clutched him tighter and watched on in horror.

"Over here!" a few men had lingered behind to help the remaining people over the fallen trees. One grabbed hold of the girl and boy and dragged them over, "We need to get you out of here, now!"

She moved on auto pilot, tucking the necklace into her pocket before she was scooped up under the armpits. Still in shock the girl allowed herself to be manhandled and lifted upwards into the awaiting arms of another man perched above her among the branches. His nails dug into her skin as he grabbed her arms and bark scrapped against her knees as he pulled her up, slivers digging into her pants and drilling through the denim and into her legs.

Mikhail was a harder effort. The boy was still thrashing and screaming in the men's arms as they attempted to lift him up. The man on the tree swatted at his hands in an effort to catch hold of one of them. "Help me with this!" The girl reached down and managed to snag one of the flailing limbs and together, they dragged Mikhail up over the wooden blockade. The man promptly passed him off to her to restrain him as the remaining men attempted to scale the trees alone without the luxury of any assistance other than the man sitting next to her still reaching down to them from his perch in the branches.

The girl looked back to Mikhail's mother; to 'mommy'. She was still swinging and hacking at the bugs. With golden hair whipping about her and blood soaking her shirt and caking her arms in its crimson war paint, she looked like some mighty warrior, making her last stand atop a battle field burdened with the bodies of friend and foe alike. On a downswing, the branch in her hands broke and a fleetingly look of distress and exasperation passed over her face before she tossed the broken stick aside. Taking one last look back at her son and the girl she had entrusted him with, she smiled, tears streaming down her face. She mouthed something to the girl and like that, the swarm descended on her. _'Thank you'._

"No!" Mikhail sobbed, arms outstretched as his struggles began anew, "Mommy!"

The girl somberly pulled him closer to her and turned his head away from the scene; let that not be his last memory of his mother.

"We need to keep going," one of the men shouted. He struck the girl on the back and she barely had enough time to shield Mikhail as they tumbled off the trees and onto the ground on the other side, her back scraping harshly against the bark. She bit back tears and struggled to her feet.

"They're still coming!" The men began jumping down besides her and took off at a run as the swarm closed in.

The girl swept Mikhail up and rushed after them, the child still crying weakly. She struggled to bear his added weight as her legs shook underneath her and twinges of pain shot up her spine as it bore the strain. Only the blind fear of the swarm and the desire to not let the woman's sacrifice be in vain kept her from slowing down and giving in to her painfully aching body. She chanced a peek behind her as she ran.

The swarm of insects shot over the trees and pursued them relentlessly. It closed in on the slowest person, an old man, and he slapped a hand to his neck with a cry if pain. In less than a few seconds, his entire body stiffened up and he froze in place, only his eyes still moving as the others called out to him over their shoulders.

"Harold!"

"We can't help him now, keep moving or you'll be next."

The swarm picked them off one by one until only three remained besides Mikhail and his newfound guardian. The girl could only hope they knew where the safe house was; she had been relying on Mikhail's mother to show her the way.

Suddenly one of the remaining men stumbled and crashed into the guy besides him, bringing them both to the ground. The last man standing hesitated for a moment before rushing back to try and help them. The swarm was drawn to them like a magnet. There was little chance they would get away.

Panicking, the girl looked around her fretfully, no idea where to run now. She spotted an open door to a house and without thinking darted towards it.

Once inside she set Mikhail down and tried to get her bearings. They were in what appeared to be a kitchen. The occupants had obviously left in a hurry, chairs knocked to the ground and plates and food spilled across the floor.

The buzzing was growing louder outside; the swarm had moved on from its latest victims. With a fresh wave of fright, she realized now that her rash decision had succeeded in boxing them into a corner. The swarm would most likely be passing the house soon and she couldn't risk taking Mikhail out to search for the safe house now or they would run straight into the bugs. In alarm, the girl looked around desperately and her eyes landed on narrow door off to the side of a row of cabinets. Hastily, she grabbed Mikhail by the arm and rushed towards it. She reached out for the handle only to find there wasn't one. Instead, a large pulsing red circle rested in the center of the door. _'What sort of place is this?!'_

She banged on the door frantically until Mikhail reached out and pressed the center of the circle. The pulsing red switched to green before the doorway split and retracted into either side of the wall, opening up to reveal some sort of small pantry. She ushered the boy inside as the door closed behind them. For good measure, she grabbed a random container and began to slam away at the button on the inside of the door until it cracked and the glow in the center blinked out and their only source of light was gone. She didn't really know how the door worked but it seemed to have been operated by the button and she hoped that what she had just done would prevent the door from working for anyone else. Stumbling, she then pulled Mikhail into a corner and sat down with him in her lap. She clutched him to her chest with all her might and prayed they would not be found.

 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do not own recognizable characters of the story and make no profit what so ever from posting this; it is solely for the enjoyment of writing that I wrote this story. Any views expressed in this story should not be taken as my own personal views and no offense is meant towards anyone of a differing opinion.

* * *

 

 _‘Please don’t find us, please don’t find us,’_ was the steady mantra that had echoed in her head since they first took shelter in the pantry.  Her eyes had adjusted to the dark a while ago, but it did little to alleviate her anxiety. The aching of her sore head and limbs had lessened significantly since she had sat down, but the fact that it hadn’t gone away was worrisome, as was having woken up hurting like that to begin with.

She didn’t know how long they had sat there, but it was in silent fear that they huddled in the corner together, paranoid of any bump, any creak that would come through the quiet.  They kept waiting for the door to fly open at any second and the swarm to cover them like a plague of locust.  

Her mind was a flurry of fear induced panic and trepidation, she could think of nothing else.  As far as she knew, no one that remained behind had escaped besides Mikhail and her.   Would anyone even know to look for them?   Did that mean no one would come for them?  She had broken the door in hopes of protecting herself and Mikhail, but now that she thought about it, did that not also mean that with no way for anyone to get in there would be no way for them to get out?  But even if they were stuck inside, that didn’t mean they were be trapped in the pantry permanently, she tried to assure herself.  It was a food pantry meaning it was most likely a regularly opened door, a place that would not remain unchecked under normal circumstances.  Once everything calmed down and the danger had passed, surely someone would open the door once they needed something…right?  

Only…what if the owner of the house they were in was one of the victims of the swarm; what if it was abandoned and just left to fall into disrepair without the one who lived in it?  Would anyone even think to look in an abandoned home for survivors?  

A survivor was all she could think to call herself, to call Mikhail.  Truth be told she didn’t know whether the stings or bites or whatever it was those insects did were actually fatal or not, but deep in her gut she could feel it; whatever intent they had for going after everyone, it would not end well for those that they caught.  

How long would it be before those horrible insects left?  Was there anything that could drive them off, chase them away?  They hadn’t seemed to be hindered in any way in their pursuit of everyone.  She had heard the gunshots; there were people out there that had at least tried to fight them, but had any of that actually been successful?  Maybe some bullets had hit their mark, but how many bugs would that have actually taken out?  The branch Mikhail’s mother had used had only managed to get a few of—

Mikhail’s mother…

She had tried so hard not to think about her.  The blonde’s blood still stained her hands and the bottom of her sleeve and she didn’t know whether to be horrified by it or find comfort in it being a lingering trace of the one person who had reached out to her.  She could almost smell the scent of the woman’s perfume as though she was still here and she wanted so badly for that to be true.  

That woman had sacrificed herself so that they would have a fighting chance to escape.  She had even been entrusted with the wellbeing of her child.  She didn’t even know the woman’s name.  It never occurred to her to ask, so focused on her own fears, too busy panicking and fixated on survival to really worry about casual introductions; not that she would have been able to introduce herself with her memory being the blank slate that it was.  Deep down, there had probably been some foolish naïve part of her that believed there would have been time to ask the woman for her name later, when they were all safe.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears.  In the short time that she had been conscious, since she had woken without a single memory, that woman had shown her such kindness and concern for her well being without knowing a thing about her.  She could have easily left her behind, run right on by without so much of a glance like everyone else had, but for whatever reason the courageous woman had taken it upon herself to do whatever it took to save her.  Something within her had convinced her that she needed to save a random girl.  She had admitted to not recognizing her, she had stopped to save a complete stranger.  

It must have been a part of being a parent, the instinct to watch over the defenseless and to channel a bond, such a warm sense of security into them to uplift and protect those they took under their wing.  Parents became real life heroes the second they are seen through the eyes of their child and it had shown in every action Mikhail’s mother had taken, not just to protect her own child, but also a person she didn’t even know.

The girl made a promise to herself; a promise that should she never gain her memories, may she at least always remember that for a brief moment in time, someone had truly cared for her. If she never regained her memories of her own mother at some point in the future, she would at least find some solace in having been given a taste of what it felt to be loved by one, even if that mother wasn’t her own.  As far as she was concerned, Mikhail’s mother became her ‘mommy’ as well, from the moment she had first taken her by the hand.

She still had the woman’s necklace, had been subconsciously rubbing against the impression of it through her pants pocket.  It felt somewhat like a star, maybe two stars layered over one another.  She hadn’t had much of a chance to look at it, had no idea what it was or if it had been important, whether or not her savior had worn it because it meant something to her or if it had only been a meaningless accessory she had worn simply because it had looked nice.  She would like to think it had meant something to the woman; it certainly meant something to her now, it was all she had left of that brave guardian; that and the child she left behind.

She shifted Mikhail into a more comfortable position against her chest, the little boy nestled into her shoulder, a wet patch on her shirt from his tears as his head hung heavy against her, having cried himself into exhaustion.  For quite a while he had done nothing but cry desperately for his mother.  His hands clenched fistfuls of her sweater as he had wept and sobbed into her shirt.  She wanted to tell him for his own good that he needed to be quiet; that any noise might alert the swarm, but she couldn’t push back the overwhelming feeling of guilt at even thinking about depriving a child a moment to grieve their mother.  The best she could do was to tuck his head under her chin and rub circles against his back, the way she had seen his mother do it, until she finally managed to soothe him to nothing more than a few soft hiccups and whimpers.  He wasn’t really sleeping though, still too distraught and terrified out of his mind to find solace in sleep.  

She could certainly relate.  There had still been daylight when she had first been swept up into this whole frightening mess, but that hadn’t made it any less horrifying to experience.  Now they sat in a closed off, eerily darkened room in utter silence and she would swear it was beginning to mess with her mind.  Shadows and shapes seemed to spring up in the mass of inky blackness that covered the room, the only source of light coming in from the crack under the door.  The shapes twisted and morphed and she tried to reassure herself that it was all in her head.  It would not do to work herself up and waste energy on running from her own imagination.  Still she couldn’t help but twitch at the slightest noise in the darkness and pray that shadows in the dark were just that; nothing more than shadows.  She needed to distract herself, and she figure Mikhail could use something different to focus his mind on too.  

“S-so,” she whispered into the quiet, “You’re name is Mikhail, huh?”

He nodded into the crook of her neck; “y-yeah…” he leaned back in her arms a little, not that he could see her better when there was hardly any light to see by.

“How old are you?” she asked, “Seven?  Eight?”

“Six.”

“Six huh?” the girl cocked her head, surprised; “You’re younger than I thought.”

“I’m not that young,” Mikhail protested, “I’m a big boy!”

“Okay, okay; you’re a big boy,” the girl agreed.  

Mikhail fidgeted in her lap, “Mommy said you didn’t know your name.  Is that true?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“How come?” She shrugged, “I…don’t know.  I just don’t.”

“But how do you not know your own name?” the little boy pressed, “What do your friends and family call you then?  How do you know when people are talking to you if you don’t have a name?”

“I didn’t say that I don’t have a name,” she sighed, “I just said I don’t know it, that I don’t remember it at the moment.  I’m sure my friends and family know what my name is but right now, I can’t exactly say I remember them either at the moment…” her head gave a painful throb and she squeezed her eyes shut, “Son of a b—,”

 

**_“Honey, can you take the trash out?” the room was blurry and out of focus, like an old photograph.  A woman rounded the corner, but her face was hard to make out._ **

**_“Why can’t dad do it?”_ **

**_The faceless woman jerked her thumb towards the couch, where a fuzzy shape laid spread out under a blanket, “He conked out shortly after dinner.  You know how he is; once his stomach is full he gets sleepy.”  She held out a large, sagging black bag, “Normally I would wake him up, but he’s been working so hard at the office lately and I don’t have the heart to get him up after he just went to sleep.”_ **

**_“This is why you should ask him to help with the housework before you feed him.  I don’t get to come over too often during exams; the last thing I want to do on my visits is spend them doing chores.”_ **

**_The woman laughed, “Even if you lived here, you still wouldn’t want to do any chores, Mavis…”_ **

 

“Are you alright?” Mikhail was poking her cheek, “hello?  Hey, are you listening to me?”

“Mavis…” she murmured, still staring off into space.

“Huh?”

“I…think my name…is Mavis?” it was supposed to be a statement but her voiced was tinged with uncertainty.

“It is?” she could almost picture the befuddlement that must have been on his face.

“Yeah…”

“How do you know it’s Mavis?” he asked.

“I just sort of…remembered it is…I think,” the name certainly sounded familiar.  

The boy wiggled around in her lap a bit until he was kneeling on her knees, his hands resting on her forearms.  

“You remembered?  Does that mean you have your memories back?”

“No…it was just one memory,” she scrunched her face up and tried to call the image back into her mind, “or part of one, at least.  Something about being asked to take the trash out and my …dad?” that sounded about right, “my dad falling asleep after dinner,”  she concentrated a little harder, but nothing else came to mind and no new memories sprang into her head.  “That’s about it.”

Mikhail absentmindedly picked at lint balls on her sweater.  “My daddy falls asleep after he eats too.”

“Oh he does, does he?” Mavis asked, trying to keep the conversation light and cheerful, “He conks right out after he has a full stomach, huh?”  She grinned, “I bet he snores.”

“He does,” Mikhail giggled, “he snores loud.  You can hear him from all over the house!”

“You’re exaggerating.  He can’t be that loud.  It’s not like you can hear it from the next house over, right?”

“But you can!” Mikhail insisted, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “it’s loud enough to shake the whole neighborhood! Everyone can hear it!”

Mavis found herself laughing this time, “Okay, now I know you’re exaggerating.”

She chuckled a little harder and soon he joined in.  It felt good to laugh; maybe she had been one of those people that was always smiling and laughed often.  Maybe she was the life of the party and everyone liked her.  It was a nice thought, anyway.

The laughter died down and they sat in silence once more.

“Do…” Mikhail whispered, “Daddy told me to stay with mommy.  Do you think he will be mad at me?” Mavis hesitated.

“No… of course not, sweetie.  You were just doing what your mommy told you too.  He’ll understand.”

"When we get to the safe house, will you come with me to tell him?" Mikhail pleaded, his fingers digging into her shirt.

"I…" Mavis shifted restlessly, "…I'm definitely not going to leave you." She couldn't promise him anything more than that, because if she was honest with herself, she had no idea if they were actually going to make it. She still didn't know where the safe house was and there was still the matter of how they would get out of the pantry. And then there was Mikhail's father…

Mikhail had mentioned when they first bumped into each other that his father was supposed to have been with them and he couldn't figure out why he wasn't. It was possible they had been separated in all the confusion. Perhaps he had stayed behind to help evacuate people from their homes; his wife certainly hadn't been above helping others out. If that was the case, there may well be very little chance he had managed to escape the swarm. Mavis and Mikhail had barely managed to get away and they had put what they thought was a good amount of distance between them. She recalled Mikhail's mother and her last few words to her. She had asked her to speak with her husband if she saw him; she said his name was Richard. But…she had looked so defeated when she said it. Mavis would have loved to chalk that up to her being upset about what she had been about to do, but that look in her eyes…how wretched and regretful she had sounded, sorrow laced so heavily into her words when she had uttered her husband's name. It was clear she had believed from the start that Mavis would not find Richard when she reached the safe house.

Mavis would never say this aloud to Mikhail and she wasn't about to give him some hollow, empty promise. She just couldn't do that to him.

Mikhail shifted on his knees, "how far are we from the safe house?"

Mavis wondered what she should say. "I'm not sure," she admitted finally, "once the bugs are gone we should probably try to find it, before it gets dark."

"I don't like those bugs," Mikhail told her, "I'm scared, Mavis."

"Don't be scared," Mavis returned to rubbing his back in comforting circles, "I'm not going to let them get you."

Mikhail sniffled. "I miss my mommy…"

Mavis's breathing hitched. "I know…" a lump was forming in her throat and she tried to blink back the tears. She pulled Mikhail against her and rested her cheek on the top of his head as he curled into her. "I know, Sweetie, I know." She nuzzled the top of his head, "I miss her too." And she meant it. "I-I forgot to ask her, but…what w—…what is your mommy's name?" She couldn't bring herself to start talking about the woman in past tense. She had barely known her for more than an hour, how could she accept that she was gone already?

"I don't know…" Mikhail whimpered, "Mommy said kids were just supposed to call their parents mommy and daddy; that they weren't supposed to call them by their first names."

"You're mother's right; that would be disrespectful," inside she was distressed to know she wouldn't find out the woman's name; not anytime soon at least.

"But people liked to called her Kit-Kat," Mikhail offered.

Mavis laughed, but it came out as more of a hiccup, "Kit-Kat, huh? That's cute. That's a cute name."

"It is…" Mikhail agreed, "do…do you think mommy with be alright?"

"…I certainly hope so, sweetie…"

Mikhail's small form was shaking and soon he was crying again. He sank into Mavis's embrace and clung to her with all his might. "Mommy…"

Mavis squeezed him tight. "Shh," she soothed, "it's alright. I'm here. I've got you. Everything's going to be okay." Without thinking she began to hum a little tune. She nuzzled Mikhail's head and rocked back and forth as her humming got a little louder and soon she was singing.

' _Little bird, little bird,_  
Fly through my window,  
Little bird, little bird,  
Fly through my window,  
Little bird, little bird  
Fly through my window,  
And find molasses candy.

Through my window,  
My sugar lump,  
Fly through my window,  
My sugar lump,  
And find molasses candy.'

"I-I like that song," Mikhail sniffled, "W-where d'ya hear it?"

"I don't know," Mavis admitted sadly. She could hear a woman's voice in her head, singing it softly to her like a lullaby and she desperately wished she could put a face to that comforting voice. She smiled remorsefully, "I guess I just know it by heart…"

Mikhail clutched tighter to her and she returned the hug tenfold as she continued to sing. "Chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window, chickadee, chickadee, fly," she gulped and hot tears made slow trails down her face, "f-fly through my window. Chickadee," she bit back a sob, "ch-chickadee fly through my window…find…molasses…." She let out a shaky breath and bit her lip until it hurt, "…candy…"

Their weeping filled the silence of the dark, tiny room as they huddle together and tried to take comfort in each other's presence. They may have had each other, they may have made it out together, but in that moment, in the absence of Mikhail's mother, they couldn't have felt more alone…

* * *

 

Their tears eventually subsided, for the time being at least.

Mikhail had settled down, resting against Mavis's chest and listening to her heartbeat as she gently pet his head. At some point after Mavis had stopped singing, Mikhail had told her that his mother used to hold him the same way when he was scared or hurt. She would hold him in her arms and sit with him in front of the window in their living room and run a hand through his hair over and over as he listened to calming tempo of her heart beating. Mavis knew a stranger like her was a piss poor substitute for a parent, but she was relieved that the boy could take even a little comfort in such a small gesture as being held. Mavis took slow, steady breaths and tried to keep her pulse rate low so her heart beat would maintain a light, leisurely pace so as not to concern Mikhail.

Deep down though, she was trying not to stress herself out as she considered their situation. She knew they couldn't stay in their hiding place forever, and as the seconds ticked by into minutes and the minutes turned into what at least _felt_ like hours it was becoming increasingly clear that they would not be able to rely on someone else to come looking for them either. They would need to find a way out on their own.

Even though nearly every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay put, Mavis knew they stood less of a chance of surviving as they were now. The safe house had been everyone's destination for a reason; it had been dubbed 'safe' for a reason. It probably was more heavily defended than anywhere else and more sturdy a structure than most of the homes, otherwise it wouldn't be the emergency meeting place for the…what was it Mikhail's mother had called them, colonists?

It was time to face the facts; they would have to leave and somehow find their way to the safe house. It was risky, that much was true, but it was still the safer option than staying put. Finding the safe house would mean more people, larger numbers that may have a better chance at fighting against the bugs. There had been gunfire earlier; meaning that this place had weapons and that most likely meant some sort of defense force or soldiers. If that was true then there would surely be some soldiers at the safe house to protect civilians. That would make the place a wiser option for security if they managed to make it there. She and Mikhail were unarmed and cut off from the other colonists with no way to protect themselves. If the bugs came back and found a way in, they would be sitting ducks. Mikhail alone was a liability; Mavis didn't think herself capable of being able to take care of him completely on her own. She would need someone's help.

There was no other option then; they would need to come out of hiding. If there was even a chance they could make it the safe house they had to take it. It would be a far better choice than staying put and waiting for the bugs to find them, alone and defenseless.

"Hey," Mavis lightly shook Mikhail, rousing him from half dozing against her, "wake up, we need to move."

Mikhail stirred, mumbling sleepily, "Mmm, what?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes, "move? Where are we moving to? There's not a lot of room in here."

Mavis shook her head, though the lack of light in the room made it a pointless gesture, "No, I mean we need to leave the pantry. We need to go back outside."

She felt Mikhail tense in her arms. "O-outside?" he asked, "b-but what about the bugs? They almost got us before."

"And they'll try and get us again if we stay here by ourselves, "Mavis stated solemnly. She felt for Mikhail's hands and clasped them between her own. "I know you're scared and I am too, but we can't stay here." She searched for the right words, hoping to make him understand, "Look, the bugs were heading the same way as us, which means they would have passed by and moved on by now. While they're gone is the perfect time to try and make it to the safe house."

"But…" Mikhail stammered, "but what if they come back?"

"Mikhail, you need to trust me," Mavis implored, "Listen, things are only going to get worse before they get better if we stay here. We need help. Do you understand?"  
"Yes, but…"

"Don't you want to find your daddy?" She hated manipulating Mikhail like this but it was the only way she could think of to convince him to leave with her. She would not stay trapped any longer and she refused to leave him behind.

"I do!" Mikhail agreed eagerly, hope underlining his tone.

"Well the only hope we have of doing that is to find the safe house." The guilt would have to be dealt with later. For now Mavis needed to focus on getting them out of the pantry.

She eased Mikhail off her lap and stood up. She moved forward with her hands out in front of her until she found her way to the door. "We need to get this open," she told Mikhail. She felt along the seam in the door where it split in half when opening, "How do you open these things if the power goes out or the button stops working?"

"Dunno," Mikhail replied.

Mavis sighed, "Great…I guess we'll just have to wing it then. Maybe we can force it open with something. If I could just find something to wedge into the door." She groped aimlessly around in the dark searching for anything that could be of use. She stumbled around and stubbed her toe once or twice, but whenever she reached down to get a feel of what she had bumped into, it didn't seem to be anything useful.

"There's nothing in here but food," she should have figured; it was a pantry. But still, it was frustrating to come up empty handed. They couldn't just stay locked in the room. She was getting antsy after having been in the dark for so long and was eager to be able to see even two inches in front of her nose again. She was actually starting to feel a little claustrophobic.

She ran a hand through her hair and leaned against a wall, when shelving dug into her shoulder and gave her pause. She turned around and ran her hand along a shelf. The shelves on the walls were thin…and flat.

"We can use one of the shelves!" she declared. They certainly felt sturdy enough to force enough pressure. She felt around along the surface of one of the shelves, looking for where it disconnected from the wall. "There's got to be a button or a release latch or clasp or something on this thing—ah-ha!" Her finger flicked against a tab farther back and she lifted the shelf up and off the wall with a tug. "I don't know how long this thing is, Mikhail, so you might want to stay low to the ground just in case."

"Okay," Mikhail said and she hoped dearly that he had complied.

"Now let's see," Mavis felt back along the wall until she reached the door, "hopefully this thing is strong enough to do the trick." She turned the shelf on its side and moved it back and forth along the door until it fell into the groove where the door split into halves. "There we go," she pressed forward with the shelf and dug it into the seam, wriggling it to the side to lodge it further into the groove. "Just a little further…" Inch by inch, the shelf slipped between the split in the door and wedged the door open slightly. A faint stream of light filtered in and trailed a skinny line across the floor towards the back wall. "Yes! Now if I can just get it open enough to slip through." She tugged and pulled the shelf sideways at an angle and began to pry the door apart. The light in the room grew gradually brighter as the door split open down the middle. As dire as their situation was, Mavis was momentarily relieved to see the sunlight again.

The door got about a foot open in width and then stopped altogether. "Damn!" Mavis cursed, "what's the matter now?" She jerked the shelf up and down in frustration and clunked into something halfway down, "Wha?" She reached out a hand and came in contact with broken metal and wires; the button she had smashed. "It splits in half with the door too, huh? It must be connected to both halves." With the meager light flooding the room, she scanned the pantry. She came across a large, label-less container with a dent in it; the one she must have used on the button to begin with. She carefully stepped away from the door and when she was sure it wasn't going to close back up again, she darted for the container and snatched it up. "Maybe if I remove it…"

She returned to the door and examined the broken button. A few good hits with the container could possibly loosen or break whatever was still holding it in place. Mavis raised the container and gave the button several hard thwacks straight down and then a few from the sides for good measure. She brought the container down on the button from the top again and pushed downwards with a bit more force. The button cracked and snapped and then hung loosely by its wires.

"Perfect," Mavis grabbed hold of the dangling switch and tugged sharply on it until it broke away from the wall. "That's should do it…" where there should have been a hole where the button once had been, there was a mass of wires from the button that was still fastened to the other side of the door, "or not." She bent down slightly and peered at the mess of gadgetry in annoyance, "Maybe I can shove something through here and knocked it out."

"What about the shelf?" Mikhail suggested.

Mavis shook her head, "No, that won't work. The shelf is too wide sideways to fit into the opening. I need something just a little bit skinnier. Or blunter," she added.  
"How about this?" Mikhail held up a skinny metal tube.

"I don't even want to know what sort of food is stashed in there," Mavis mused, "but it'll do. Thanks." She took the proffered tube and leaned down in front of the hole  
again. "Hup!" she jabbed the tube forward. She repeated the action several more times.

There was a snap and then a pop from the other side of the door. Mavis gave one more shove and the button popped free and clattered to the floor, "finally!" Mavis grabbed hold of the shelf once again and twisted it to the side.  
"Mikhail," she called, "come help me push."

Mikhail rushed forward and grabbed hold of the shelf as well. Together they pushed and shoved at the plank and wedged the door open bit by bit. "Almost…there…hang on a second," Mavis let go of the shelf and grabbed onto the edges of the door. She spread her legs apart to center herself and leaned forward against the door as she pushed her arms out to the sides. She dragged the two halves of the door farther apart. With a grunt and one last stretch out to the sides as Mikhail leaned on the shelf, they finally pried the door open.

The pair stepped out of the pantry and into the kitchen. "We did it!" Mikhail cheered.

"Shh," Mavis put a finger to her lips, "we still need to be quiet."

"Oh," Mikhail looked down at his feet and toed the floor; the seriousness of the situation sinking in once again, "so…now what?"

Mavis hesitated to answer. Now that they were out of the pantry, she was less sure of herself than she was before. She knew they had to leave before they were caught, but the thought of going back outside filled her with dread. She could still hear the buzzing in her head; had been able to all the time they were trapped in the pantry, and it was making her paranoid.

"Now…" she looked around the kitchen hesitantly, "now…we look for something to defend ourselves with." She picked up an item by her feet at random and looked at it; a drinking glass, "Nope." She tossed it aside and snatched up another object, a fork this time, "that's useless," she tossed it aside as well. Next was what appeared to be a meat tenderizer of some sort, "better, but not good enough."

Something shinny underneath the kitchen table caught her eye. "Will that work?" She crawled under the table and picked up a small, metallic case. It was narrower on one end than the other with a groove curling around it ornately and had a few swirly, disc-like markings on it. She flipped it over in her hands a few times, examining it. "Hey, Mikhail," she crawled back out from under the table and walked over to him, "what's this thing?" she held the item out to the boy.

Mikhail looked the object over a bit in puzzlement. "I think it's a…um…a lighter," he said finally, "Daddy says smoking is bad for you and outdated, but some people still do it."

"This is one weird looking lighter," Mavis mused. She flicked her thumb over what she presumed was the top and the cap popped open, a small flame flaring to life. She flicked it closed and palmed it thoughtfully. "By itself this is pretty useless, but with something else…" she scanned every corner of the room skeptically. There had to be something she could use. They couldn't waste time standing around.

An idea popped into her head. "Mikhail," she called, "do you see any sprays or something anywhere?" she asked, "Or know of any kind of spray people around here keep in their homes? It needs to be some sort of gas; a chemical."

Mikhail pondered her question for a moment, "I think so. Yeah, people use a lot of sprays and stuff for cleaning things up."

"Great! Any idea where they might be?"

"No…"

"Great…I wonder where they would be then," Mavis wondered, trying not to lose her patience. It wasn't Mikhail's fault; he was just a little kid.  
"Maybe under the sink?" Mikhail suggested.

"That's possible," Mavis looked around for the sink, spotting it over to the left. Pocketing the lighter, she went over to the sink and prodded along the metal casing below it until, to her relief, a cabinet opened with a whoosh. Various bottles were stored inside, most seemed to be for cleaning dishes, or polishing the kitchen surfaces.

"There must be something in here," she shifted a few bottles to the side, taking some out and setting them down around her so that she could reach further towards the back of the cabinet. She continued like that for a minute or two until her eyes landed on one bottle in particular. It didn't stand out much from the other bottles, except instead of a lid, there was a pressure tab on one side of it and a little hole near the top; a nozzle. Mavis picked it up and scanned the label, not familiar with the name.

"That's bug spray," Mikhail pointed out from over her shoulder, "it's to keep beetles out of the house when they try to come inside when it gets cold out."

"A kitchen is a pretty dangerous place to keep a pesticide," Mavis pointed out, "hell, it's dangerous to use at all, right? But considering what we are up against, I guess it pretty fitting for what we need right now." The pesticide would be too big to fit in one of her pockets, though; she would need to find something to carry it in.

"Mikhail, do you think you could find me a bag of some kind?"

"I'll try," Mikhail set to work right away, poking and prodding through doors and cabinets.

"And while he's busy with that…" It was time for the next step. They had gotten out of the pantry, they had found what she hoped would be decent weapons; the only thing left to do was come out of hiding and step outside. She stood up and turned to the door on the far side of the room. It was the door they had come in from when they first sought refuge in the house, the door that would take them back outside. Mavis cautiously approached it. A door shouldn't look as ominous as it did in that moment as she walked towards it. With each step she took, her mind supplied her with the horrors she had face when she was last outside, one scene after another; the fear etched onto frozen faces as everything around them burned. Her heart hammered in her chest as she sidled up to the doorway. Standing just off to the side of it, she flattened herself against the wall and warily peered around the corner. Outside, it looked relatively deserted. The only sound she heard was the crackling of nearby fires; the buzzing was gone. They were in the clear…

"Found one!"

Mavis yelped and whipped back around, a hand to her chest to settle her pounding heart. "Mikhail, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I didn't!" Mikhail stood in front of her, a bag with a long strap dangling from his outstretched hands, "I found a school bag. Will this work?"

Mavis took a moment to collect herself, still a little spooked. "I think so. Yes that will do. Where did you find it?"

"The living room," Mikhail answered, pointing to a door leading to an adjoining room.

Mavis stiffened in alarm. "Mikhail you shouldn't wander off on your own!" she scolded, gripping him tightly by the arms. "It's dangerous," she insisted.

Mikhail winced at the grip she had on his arms. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, his eyes beginning to water; "I was only trying to help."

Mavis's anger deflated instantly. She hadn't meant to make the kid cry. She took a deep breath and exhaled through her teeth, trying to reel her emotions back in. "No I'm sorry," she told Mikhail, letting go of his arms and pulling him in for a hug, "I'm the one that asked for your help. I should have been more specific. You need to stay with me; I don't want to lose you." She picked up the school bag and offered Mikhail an encouraging grin. "You did a good job," she assured him, "this bag is perfect." She draped the strap diagonally across her shoulders and chest and stashed the pesticide inside the bag. Then as an afterthought, she snatched up the meat tenderizer she had looked at before. "Just to be on the safe side," she stated, dropping it into the bag as well. She turned back towards the door and gave another look around outside.

"I think we're in the clear," Mavis said, turning around and returning to Mikhail, "but first," she glanced around the room and spotted a dish towel draped over the sink faucet. She picked it up and showed it to Mikhail, "We'll need this." She gripped two ends of the towel and pulled hard until it fray and tore down the middle, "there we go." She held out the now two pieces of cloth and kneeled down in front of Mikhail. "Here," she reached up and fastened one piece of cloth around the little boy's face, just under his eyes.

"What is this for?" Mikhail asked, trying to look crossed eye down at the rag.

"Think of it as a gas mask," Mavis replied, fixing the remaining half of the cloth onto her own face, "things are still burning out there and I don't know exactly how bad it is. There could be a lot of smoke in some places and we can't breathe it in. So we'll use these towel strips."

"It smells," Mikhail whined, and she was sure he was grimacing under his mask.

"Tough, kid," Mavis retorted. She didn't exactly know where this cocksure, determined attitude of hers was coming from; she had been pretty much a simpering baby when she first woke up in this mess and she had assumed that was just the sort of person she was before she lost her memories. She wondered if she was channeling some that fighting spirit from Mikhail's mother. "These rags are all we've got, unless you know of where we can find some real gas masks."

Mikhail shook his head.

"Didn't think so," Mavis stood up and placed her hands on her hips, "Now, these masks aren't perfect, but they'll work as a filter, and any filter is better than no filter at all. Plus, the pesticide we found is probably not safe to breathe in." She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, "Now I don't want us to get separated so," she held her arms out, "Hop on."

Mikhail allowed himself to be lifted up into her arms, his legs wrapped around her waist. It would be easier to run with him on her back, but it would be harder to protect him back there should the need arise.

Mavis stepped hesitantly towards the door and paused, "Ready?"

"No."

"Me neither," Mavis closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hand drifted down to her pocket and gave it a pat, the necklace inside pressing against her thigh. Reassuring herself that she was making the right decision, she carried Mikhail outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally a part of chapter one, but that made it one hell of a long chapter so made it into its own chapter instead of a scene transition within chapter one. Hope that makes sense.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I go any further, I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do not own recognizable characters of the story and make no profit what so ever from posting this; it is solely for the enjoyment of writing that I wrote this story. Any views expressed in this story should not be taken as my own personal views and no offense is meant towards anyone of a differing opinion.

* * *

 

Stepping out into the deserted yard, she crouched low to the ground as best she was able while holding Mikhail and surveyed the area warily. The sky was stained a pink hue and glowing embers floated lazily down from the sky. Everything was unnaturally still, desolate even. Doors to homes hung open, some a dollhouse mockery of tables set for dinner and patio furniture meticulously placed for a quiet afternoon while outside their deceivingly cozy displays walls charred and burning rubble littered the ground in broken heaps and piles of hastily discarded and abandoned possessions. All of it lay tattered and neglected across grass crushed and smashed by the stampede of feet that had trampled over it only hours before.

One thing in particular stood out next to an overturned deck chair; a doll. Adjusting Mikhail in her arms, Mavis carefully stepped over broken glass and twisted hunks of metal and scooped up the lonesome toy. It appeared to be some sort of stuffed animal resembling an elephant with a brightly colored saddle-looking cloth draped over its hunched back. Lacking a trunk, it had a grooved and wrinkled flap of skin down the center of its face as two lines curled upward from the bottom of it in resemblance of a smile. It had no ears that she could find, nor a tail. It wore an odd pair of pants and what appeared to be a matching pair of arm warmers in a reddish color that stood out against its gray skin. It looked sort of cute in a way. Looking down, an assortment of small brightly colored chairs and broken effeminate looking dolls in frilly dresses rested at her feet amid a little table and small teacups and toy food. Some innocent youth had been having a grand tea party. And now it was all in ruins left to be trampled and destroyed.

Mavis smiled bitterly down at the toy in her hand. Things must have been so peaceful and happy on the colony before the bugs showed up; people must have felt safe and secure and that they had all the time in the world to spend enjoying life. Now how many of them had actually made it out to continue to enjoy it? Would this little boy or girl be lucky enough to come back to their little game?

"Mikhail."

"Hm?" Mikhail titled his head up slightly to her.

"Here," Mavis offered the doll to him, "I found you a little friend." She pushed her finger up underneath one of its legs and made it tickle Mikhail's cheek.

Mikhail lifted his head from her shoulder and reached a hand out towards the doll.

"F-for me?" he asked.

Mavis nodded, "Mm-hm, all for you," she confirmed, "and look, I think this little guy's feeling a little lonely. I think he could use a hug." She shook the toy a bit like it was doing a sort of funny dance. The kid needed a little bit of happiness in their nightmare to give him some hope. She wasn't really stealing the doll; just borrowing it. Maybe if they made it out alright, she could convince its owner to let Mikhail keep it; surely they could afford a new one. That is, if the owner had even made it out of this disaster.

Mikhail took the proffered doll into his small hands and clutched it tightly like it was the most precious thing in the world to him. "Thank you," he murmured.

Mavis smiled, "don't mention it. So, what are you going to name him?"

"Eli the Elcor."

"Eli the Elcor," Mavis repeated in bemusement, "Well that's a funny name. I like it."  
"I do too."

"I can put it in the bag if you like," Mavis offered.

"That's okay," Mikhail said, "I want to hold him."

"Okay then." Mikhail smiled slightly and tucked Eli the Elcor between them so he wouldn't lose it, the cuddly toy squished up against their chests as he turned back into her shoulder and tucked his head into the crook of Mavis's neck.

Mavis smile dropped; it was time to move on. Checking to see if the coast was clear, she set out to their left down a deserted street; the direction they had been heading in before the bugs had caught up and forced her to run into the house. She tried not to step on anything, but it was difficult to be light on her feet with the precious living cargo in her arms. She winced at the sound of snapping and breaking debris under her feet, each crunch sounding unreasonably loud to her ears. She really hoped that it was just her imagination; they would be in deep trouble should any noise alert the swarm of their presence.

Mavis crept through the street like she was walking through a minefield, anxiety and hesitation hanging off her every step like lead weights. The silence around her was almost as unnerving as the buzzing had been earlier. Each corner she peered around was like having a mini heart attack; expecting something to jump out at her at any moment.

The pair passed a side yard and Mavis doubled back suddenly. A tool box rested in the grass, its contents spilled out across the yard. Looking around, she tiptoed over and crouched over the tools. She spied what looked like a power drill. It could possibly do some decent damage if need be. She mulled it over in her head for a moment before picking the tool up and slipping it into her bag, "Better safe than sorry." She stood back up and snuck off as quietly as she could.

As she crept through the colony, she took in her surroundings with growing apprehension. Something didn't feel right; it felt off. Not that things had been just peachy before, but now the air was almost stifling with tension. She was getting the feeling they weren't alone…

She came to the edge of the street she was on and stopped. The grass nearby was flattened and matted down in several places. It went on in neat little rows across the grass like trails. It looked like something had been dragged through there. But what?

Something definitely wasn't right. The bugs couldn't have done that. From what she had seen, they had simply left their victims where they fell; they hadn't carried any of them off. No, the swarm _definitely_ hadn't been the ones to leave these trails.  
Mavis set off in a new direction, not wanting to follow wherever those trails were leading to. Her gut was telling her whatever it was, it wasn't anything good. It was best to avoid it and hope she didn't run into any more of them.

"How are you doing, Mikhail," she whispered.

Mikhail shifted in her arms a tad, "I'm scared," he admitted, "and cold. And my head hurts. I don't want to be out here."

"You're tired, sweetie," Mavis cooed, "just try and hang in there a little longer; I'm sure we'll reach the safe house soon."

Mikhail whined and snuggled into her with a tired little "m'kay."

Mavis rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt, her feet sliding on the slick grass. "What in the world…"

A few feet up ahead of them, strange masses stood out against the rows of houses. They were large, somewhat green, bulky identical objects. The various ridges and lines made them insect-like, and the thought made her sick to her stomach; they looked somewhat like cocoons or pods. It dawned on her that these things were just about the right size to have left those drag marks in the grass.

She knew she should turn around and leave, she knew she should avoid them like she had the trails in the grass earlier, but something about their disturbing and grotesque appearance had her curiously, morbidly transfixed.

Worrying her lip between her teeth, she nervously approached the one closest to her, very, very slowly. The thing looked even more frightening and creepy up close. Upon closer inspection, there was a segment of it that was covered in a dome-like, translucent yellow film. Alarms were screaming in her head, her instincts were shrieking at her to run away, but still, she leaned over the top and peered inside…

A man's face looked back up at her, stiff and frozen in fear, the pod encasing him like a coffin. His mouth twitched slightly, like he was trying to say something and his eyes darted around rapidly in his head as he peered up at her. Slowly his stiff movements began to falter and with one last twitch, his eyes rolled up into his head and he went still.

Mavis reeled back with a gasp, her arms instinctively tightening around Mikhail, "Oh my god!"

Mikhail whimpered, "There's a person in there!" he cried fearfully.

Mavis backed away from the pod frantically, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" She stumbled to the ground and fell back heavily with the added weight of Mikhail. Her eyes never left the pod as she scooted away from the awful thing. Was this the fate that awaited everyone the swarm had caught?

"Mavis," Mikhail huddled against her, trembling, "I don't like it here. I want to leave."  
Mavis continued to stare appalled at the pod, her mouth moving soundlessly.

"Mavis!"

"We need to get out of here," Mavis snapped out of it and struggled to her feet, "we need to go now!"

She turned around to run and gasped. A shadow cast itself across the ground, coming around the corner. It stretched out across the ground in a frighteningly tall, gangly shape. Whatever is was it made an inhuman, indiscernible clicking sound, almost a trilling, chirping noise. Panicking, Mavis ducked into an alleyway and dropped to her knees. Crouching, she peered around the corner, one hand on Mikhail's head keeping him turned into her shoulder, as she waited for whatever it was to pass by. As the owner of the shadow rounded the corner, Mavis sucked in a breath sharply and her mouth went dry.  
What walked out in the middle of the lawn was far worse than the swarm.

A horrible creature stood before her. It was tall, definitely taller than her, taller than Mikhail's mother had been and the woman had been taller than Mavis by a head. The creature walked upright on misshapen legs, bulky thighs giving way to skinny calves and feet bearing only two toes. Its hips looked more like the bones found under the skin, too sharp and laced with sinew rather than flesh; an exoskeleton. The torso overall looked hideously reminiscent of a bug's thorax with what appeared to be a pair or two of insect-like legs tucked up against its chest. Its arms were long and thick with small hook-like protrusions near the wrists and thin, pointy fingers on each hand, wrapped around a strange weapon of some sort. Most frightening of all was its head. A massive, domed carapace that extended somewhat down creatures back was what made up the head. It lacked a mouth from what could be seen and bore two pairs of luminous yellow eyes.

"Be very quiet, Mikhail," Mavis whispered, her warning coming out as a stifled squeak, "don't make a sound."

Mikhail whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

The creature let out a series of chirps and garbled trills and suddenly it was flanked by several more beings just like it, all carrying weapons; they looked like guns. They lumbered across the lawn in a slow, jerky gait and approached the human filled pods. Grabbing one end of the pods, they dragged them away one by one; large trails flattened into the grass behind them as Mavis watched on in fear.

Mavis stayed very still and low to the ground behind a crate in the alley. She did not move, she barely even breathed. Her heart beat had never sounded so loud; she almost feared the creatures would hear it. She kneeled there clutching a trembling Mikhail to her chest and prayed the awful things would pass them by.

The creatures dragged the pods away and set off another round of trills to each other. The one closet to Mavis and Mikhail's hiding place turned its large head this way and that, surveying the area, its gaze moving slowly over the lawn. One final check and it chirped at its cohorts and began to walk away.

Mavis leaned forward to peek around the corner and a twig snapped under her foot. Her blood ran cold and time seemed to stop for a moment as the creature slowly rotated back around and landed its eerie, glowing eyes on her.

A gunshot pierced the air somewhere off in the distance and in that moment all hell broke loose…

Mavis ducked as the creature turned its weapon on her and a blast went off over her head, leaving a scorch mark on the side of one of the houses she crouched between; the gun wasn't firing any mere bullet. Suddenly there was nothing but deafening shots and screaming. The screaming wasn't normal, though; the shrieks and yowls that filled the air now were not like the cries of terror and surprise that and echoed across the colony when the colonist had fled for their lives. No, this screaming was far from human; it did not come from a place of fear or desperation to live. This screaming was made up of nothing but mindless rage and agony, and that thought alone was truly terrifying.

Mavis rose from her position and darted to the opposite end of the alley. She emerged from the exit and took off with Mikhail at a sprint, the boy clinging to her like his life depended on it and she knew without a doubt that it did.

The screaming was getting louder and seemed to be closing in from all sides. With a frantic looked behind her, Mavis let out a shriek as dozens of monstrous figures poured out from behind houses and alleyways and flooded the streets. They were like mechanical corpses, hairless, gaunt bodies melded with wires threaded in and out of grayish blue skin and ribcages and trailing from glowing, unblinking eye sockets, mouths gaping wide in not quite animalistic snarls.

Mavis screech and ran as fast as her legs would carry her from the wretched things, bounding over debris and rubble as the lifeless beings hurtled after her in a stampede of flailing limbs and outstretched hands clawing the air in front of them with sharp fingers.

A red blast shot past Mavis's shoulder; the armed insect-like creatures were in fast pursuit as well. She zigzagged aimlessly across the ground as she ran, trying to make herself less of an easy target. She moved without rhyme or reason, this way and that, running purely on instinct at this point and doing whatever her body told her to do in a last ditch attempt to make it out alive.

The sky was alive with the sounds of war and crimson bursts of light along the horizon as round after round of shots whizzed through the air and whistled overhead. Mavis could only hope that some of the firing was being done by someone on her side. Had rescue finally come? There had to be other survivors out there, she and Mikhail and made it this far and Mavis didn't have the foggiest clue what she was doing. If there was any chance at all that someone was out there fighting these terrible creatures, then it meant Mavis and Mikhail might actually make it out alive.

The horrifying chirping and unnatural howls of her attackers drove Mavis onward, darting around corners and crawling under wreckage. She tried to make her path as difficult to follow as possible, but she could only spare so much time to be creative with the monsters breathing down her neck and the near misses of the gunshots getting closer to hitting their mark with each blast. Every twist and turn of her body jostled Mikhail and made it harder to hold onto him. The bag at her hip would swing around and slap against her thigh harder and harder, the weight of the contents inside slamming harshly against her side painfully.

Mavis ducked under the metal paneling of a wall peeling off the side of a house and half crawled, half hobbled towards a crevice between two structures resembling some sort of vehicles that had crashed into one another. She dropped forward onto her hands and knees and dragged Mikhail into the crevice just as a shot rang out bounced off the side of one of the vehicles. They emerged on the other side and Mavis hauled Mikhail to his feet only to turn around and come face to face with the cold blue, haunted looking face of a screaming corpse. Mavis shoved Mikhail behind her, the child clinging to Eli the Elcor as the incensed beast grabbed for Mavis's neck. Its clawed hands sank into her flesh and she let out a cry of pain as the screaming, moaning creature shook her fiercely, rivets of blood seeping out from the wounds it inflicted and staining her shirt. Panicking, her hand dove into her satchel and felt around blindly. Her hand closed around a cold handle and she wrenched her hand out and frantically stabbed the point of the drill into the wretched things forehead. With a ferocious growl, she turned the device on and drove the spinning tip into the creature's skull with a sickening, wet series of crunches. Cobalt blue liquid splattered her face and dripped into her eyes as the thing let out a shrill screech and its skull cracked open against the force of the drill and the monster went limp. The weight of its lifeless form dragged her arms down and the thing's head slid of the end of the drill and dropped to the ground.

Panting, Mavis ran a hand across her face, smearing blue over her skin as she looked down at the slain body liquid still pouring from the hole in its head. Her stomach roiled, bile rising up in her throat and she bent forward and dry heaved, her chest aching with exertion. More cries sounded around her and with a strangled gag, she pulled Mikhail up into her arms once more and frantically dash away.

Her legs were throbbing with the strain of running, but Mavis forced herself to go on; the pain of dagger-like claws on her throat sent a brand new terror into her and she was determined to never let another get that close. The insect-like creatures seemed to have given up their pursuit, leaving the blue, howling corpses to chase after them. She had no idea where the other monsters went, but she considered it a blessing that she had one less thing to worry about although a part of her couldn't help but morbidly think that the insect creatures had abandoned the chase because they intended to have the corpses finish them off. A shot to the head would almost be a mercy in comparison to what the corpses might do. Mikhail was whimpering and sobbing against her chest and she desperately wished she could comfort him in some way but she needed to focus on getting them to safety. There was still no sign of the safe house and the war raging around her was getting fiercer. She could make out new sounds amongst the pandemonium. Roars of rage echoed over the buildings and tree tops, only this time they sounded different; they sounded human. There _were_ people out there.

She ran towards the yells, the spiteful taunts and triumphant cries of people in the distance. If she could only reach them, maybe they could protect her and Mikhail. She was exhausted and scared and wanted nothing more than to let someone else take charge and protect her, protect Mikhail. She wanted to be held, be told it was going to be alright and she didn't care if that made her a coward. She hadn't asked for this, she didn't want to be in this mess.

She was getting closer and closer to the yelling and she let herself feel a flicker of hope. They were going to make it; they were going to be okay, if they could just get there.

A new noise split the air and Mavis swore her heart skipped a beat; the buzzing was back. A cold sweat broke out across her skin as the swarm came out of nowhere and bore down upon them. On impulse, Mavis dug her hands into the bag again, Mikhail tightening his hold on her as her arms dropped out from under him and he clung to her like a spider monkey.

Mavis yelled in fear and whipped out the lighter and pesticide. Holding the lighter out in front of her, she sprayed the pesticide into the air and ignited it. A streak of fire shot up the gaseous stream into the air and consumed the swarm as the insects went up in flames. The air reeked of chemicals and she coughed harshly, but continued to spray her makeshift flamethrower until the bugs lay charred and dead at her feet. She tucked her weapons back into the bag and surveyed her work. She had no time to rejoice as something barreled into her and threw her to the ground, Mikhail rolling out of her arms with a yelp.

A corpse was upon her, howling and crying out in anger as it wrestled with her. It beat at her with its fists and slashed at her arms and face as she screamed and twisted in its grasp. It swiped at her viciously, leaving cuts across her face and the palms of her hands as she cry out in pain. Tears streamed down her face as pain and fear coursed through her.

"Let me go!" she sobbed, kicking out and thrashing wildly. She managed to push the creature off her and leapt to her feet. She gripped her satchel in her fists and swung it against the thing's head with a satisfying crack. Over and over she beat at it sobbing and grunting as the creature crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Mikhail screamed behind her and she whipped around. One lucky bug had managed to escape the flames and had descended upon Mikhail while Mavis was distracted. The boy waved his arms frantically about him, attempting to dislodge it, but his efforts were in vain. Before Mavis could reach him, the frightening child let out a cry as the winged nightmare stung him. Mavis screamed furiously and batted the insect away with her bag. It rolled across the ground and she crushed it beneath her foot with as much hatred driven force as she could muster.

"Mavis!"

Mikhail lie sobbing feebly on the ground curled up on his side. Mavis hobbled over to him and attempted to pull him up so she could look at him, but the bug had already done its job. Eyes wide and scared, Mikhail froze up in her arms and went still.

"No," Mavis cried, "No!" She hefted him up, the fetal position of his body forcing her to carry him under her arm. She snatched up his discarded toy and stuff it into her bagged and then set off towards the voices again. A twinge of pain pulsed in her ankle as she moved; she must have twisted it in her fall. Moving was torture for her, but she limped ahead as fast as she could. Cries and snarls resonated behind her, spurring her onward. They had already gotten hold of her twice now; they could very well kill her if they got the chance again.

Unfortunately, her determination was not enough to keep her going. The pain was getting stronger and it was with dawning horror that she realized she would not be able to go on. Her movements were becoming unsteady with every step and she began to sway as her legs trembled beneath her.

' _Have to get away,_ ' she thought frantically, ' _have to get away…'_  
She spotted several vehicles turned on their side in front of a wall; a barricade and she dragged herself towards it on shaky legs. Her knees buckled beneath her as she reached it and she deposited Mikhail on the ground and fell forward. Panting, gulping in huge mouthfuls of air, she rolled the boy behind the barricade. She wheezed and scanned the area frantically. What could she do to save them? What else was there she could do to keep them safe?

"Help!" she cried desperately, hoping that someone was close enough to hear her. "Somebody, please help us!" She heard no answer and she wept openly.

The corpses were bearing down on them and getting closer by the minute. They flailed their arms around as they drew near, fingers outstretched, ready to tear into innocent flesh.

Just when Mavis was about to give up hope, her eyes landed on something near the edge of the barricade. A puddle gleamed in the fading light, trickling out from a container next to one of the over turned vehicles. She crawled towards it, dragging her leg behind her as she struggled to reach the pool. As she got closer, a strong, pungent odor filled her nostrils, strong enough she could taste it; gasoline.

Without thinking she hauled herself to her feet and snatched up the container next to the puddle. She hobbled out from behind the barricade and dribbled the substance along the ground in thick streams. She limped back and forth in front of the barricade and dosed the ground with as much of the gas as she could until the gas can was empty. Tossing it aside, she pulled out the lighter and dropped to her knees.

The monsters were almost right on top of them now; she was running out of time.

"Please work," she whispered, fumbling with the lighter, "please, please, please work."

She flicked the lighter open and clicked it on, but nothing came out.

"No," she cried, "come on, work!" she shook the lighter and banged it against her palm repeatedly. "Work damn it!"

The screaming of the beasts was almost overwhelming now; she could practically feel their hands upon her already.

She continued to click the lighter uselessly. "Please," she begged in desperation, "Just a spark; just a single spark. This can't be how it ends, it just can't be! I can't die like this! _I want to live!"_

One more click and small flame sparked to life from the lighter. "Yes," Mavis let out a choked cry of triumph. She set the tiny flame down to the gasoline and the river of gas burst into flames. It formed a half ring around the barricade and rose up into the air. The wall of fire blazed before her as she staggered to her feet and groped for the meat tenderizer inside her bag.

The mindless creatures ran into the fire without a second thought and shrieked and flailed as it consumed them. Mavis stared transfixed at their demise. The few that made it passed the flames ran blazing towards her and she swung her mallet at them with all her might. She stumbled around trying to avoid the flames that danced off them and licked at her skin, the heat overwhelming her as she struck them down and kicked them away, the contact sending pangs of pain up and down her injured leg.

One after another they came, either too stupid to fear the fire or truly nothing but mindless zombies without a real thought in their head other than the instinctual need to attack anything that moved. It seemed endless. Smoke hung thick and heavy in the air and Mavis struggled to breath against the onslaught of its smothering embrace; her crude excuse for a mask barely keeping the charred ash out of her mouth. Hacking and wheezing, she swung recklessly through the air at the creatures, swaying from side to side and she tried her hardest to not collapse.

It felt like hours, it might have been mere minutes, but however a span of time it was the siege finally ended and Mavis stood weary but victories among the flames. Blue tinged bodies lay out before her feet; nothing remained standing but her and her wall of flames. She felt warmth well up inside of her that had nothing to do with the flames; they had made it, they were going to be alright, she could feel it. A chuckle escaped her without warning. Then another. And another. Before she realized it, she was laughing. Sagging against the barricade, she threw her head back and laughed with all her might, near hysteric, tears streaming down her face. She had done it. She hadn't let them get her or Mikhail. She couldn't hear the gunshots anymore and all was quiet except the sound of her laughter and the crackling of the flames. They were going to be okay.

They were going to be okay…

"Mikhail," she croaked, dropping her weapon to the ground and hobbling over to rest against a segment of the barricade, "we did it." She leaned over the trashed and dented metal and panted, gasping for air as her lungs ached and her legs trembled with the effort to keep herself standing. She giggled manically again, "we're alright, Mikhail. We made it." She felt the necklace in her pocket digging into her thigh. She pictured the face of Mikhail's mother and let out a sob. "Y-you did it," she called out to the sky, "You saved me…you saved me…" she must have looked insane, laughing and crying slumped over the wall of the barricade, but she couldn't bring herself to care, "and save Mikhail; I saved your son." She sniffled, snot running down her face and spit matting her hair to her cheeks. "I never got the chance to thank you," she choked out, "to thank you for protecting me. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you. Thank you," she whimpered, "Thank you so much—,"

The crackling of the flames built to a roar as suddenly, the fire began to spread to parts of the barricade. Mavis fell back in horror as the flames unfolded across the tops of the overturned automobiles. It danced along the barricade towards the wall and inched towards several overturned cans only a few feet away from Mikhail. Mavis inhaled sharply; they were gas cans.

" _No!"_ Mavis darted forward on shaky legs. It seemed to take her forever to get there. She grabbed hold of Mikhail and yanked him out of the way just as the flames reached the cans and the whole mess exploded.

White hot agony shot up the left side of Mavis's body and she screamed, loud and wretchedly. It felt like thousands of lava-dipped needles were piercing her flesh and tearing it all from her body. She brought her hands up to her face and stumbled around blindly. The skin on the left side of her face bubbled and popped, seeming to stick to the palms of her hands. Searing heat closed in around her eye and she squeezed it shut tightly as her eyelid chapped and cracked. She screamed and cried as her face throbbed and parts of her flesh peeled away in patches, blood trickling down her arms. Her facemask burnt into her cheek and her clothes seemed to melt into her skin and she clawed at it desperately, tearing the flaky, blood soaked remains from her aching body, as though she could rip away the excruciating pain. The inside of her mouth was scalded, her tongue bubbling and her throat feeling like it was coated in acid as smoke filled her lungs and her nostrils were greeted with the rotten, grotesque reek of burnt, blistering flesh. Hair came away from her singed and bleeding scalp and fell in clumps at her feet. She sobbed and screamed frenziedly and tumbled to the ground next to Mikhail, the boy whimpering in fear, trying desperately through his paralysis to cry out to her.

Someone was yelling in the distance, but she paid it no mind, screaming over and over as she lurched and thrashed around, digging her nails into her skin and scratching and scraping at the scorched tissue. She rolled around in the grass scrabbling at her damaged skin as tears poured from her eye. ' _Make it stop,'_ she shrieked inside her head, ' _make the pain stop. It hurts, it hurts so badly. I'm scared, I'm scared. 'Mommy', 'I want 'Mommy' back. I want 'Mommy'; I want my mommy. Where's my mommy, why isn't she here, why can't I recall her face? Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Someone please, make the pain stop!'_

She barely noticed as the fire was dosed around her. She was hardly aware of the people who leapt over the barricade and rushed towards her; something thrown over her and smothering the flames as she was hauled up into a strong pair of arms. Something latched onto her wrist and tried to tug them away from her face, but she fought against it mindlessly. It was only when Mikhail was pulled from her side that she realized they weren't alone.

Jerking up, she frantically groped around for Mikhail. Hands closed around her good arm and she lashed out weakly. A blanket of some sort was draped around her body; it must have been what put out the fire on her skin. Her vision was blurry and her body was rapidly going numb as she looked around. Her gaze landed on Mikhail, cradled against a large armored body and she let out a strangled cry and fought against her own captor's grasp, reaching for Mikhail.

Another hand come down to caress the right side of her face as her body spasm and twitched. Something about the hand seemed off; a little too boney maybe, but it soothed her. Someone was talking, but she didn't think they are speaking to her; something about a 'commander' and it didn't make a bit of sense to her. The voice was male and it spoke calmly, soothingly, almost like a purr. Her head dropped to the side as she calmed, the pain ebbing away to nothingness, she couldn't even feel the hands holding her anymore. She hiccupped and shook as the voices around her continued to talk and she realized that her rescuers had finally come. With a sob, she threw herself forward into her savior's arms and wept, babbling nonsensically.

Her vision was blackening around the edges as her body sagged under the weight of her own exhaustion. The voices were growing frantic, harsh and loud to her ears. The body holding her grabbed her by the chin and tilted her face upward. They were yelling something at her, ordering her to do something, their voice stern and aggravated, but she could only make out a few words as the world began to spin around her.

"Stay…do you hear?...be okay…..don't close your… _listen damn it!"_

"Shepard!...we need…..shock…Mordin…tell Chackwas...Normandy now!"

She tried to focus on the people speaking, but everything was so fuzzy and out of focus. The last thing she saw before her eyes rolled back and everything went black was a pair of crimson eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also a part of chapter one originally, but I made it it's own chapter as well so that it would not be so tedious to read in one sitting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, yada yada yada, you know this disclaimer from the beginning of my previous chapters.
> 
> Once again, this is an un-beta'd chapter, so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me.

* * *

 

**Beep…beep...beep…beep…**

"Everybody out! We need the medical bay sterile before infection sets in…"

* * *

**Beep…beep…**

"We need to get some x-rays; there may be scarring to the lungs…"

"Her throat will need to be cleared before an air tube is inserted…"

"Her respiratory tract is swelling; this wasn't just from the smoke, was it? What was _in_ that pesticide?"

"I didn't get a chance to check when we found her. Mordin?"

"Metam sodium…chlorpyrifos…metolachlor…usage in decline in human colonies due to respiratory paralysis and convulsions….and vomiting; we must drain the airway or she'll choke on her own bile…"

* * *

**Beep…beep…beep…**

"Help me with this, her clothes are burnt into the skin, we need to remove them…She's going into shock! Get an IV in her…and we need a catheter…"

"Burns marks over 43% of the body…skin grafts will be necessary..."

"Her skin looks so raw…Can she feel anything?"

"No, Commander, her nerves are completely shot; but she'll be in for a lot of pain in the morning no doubt…"

* * *

**Beep…beep…beep…**

"Substantial damage to the face and eye…could prove problematic…reconstructing facial tissue is lengthy process…"

"Get her in the tub; these burns have to be cleaned immediately…"

* * *

**Beep…beep…beep…beep…**

"I took a plasma sample, she's AB positive. Five of the crew members are a match; I want all of them up here for testing now! We need a donor…these puncture wounds in her neck are deeper than we thought…"

"Bruising to the face and sternum; possibly result of blunt force trauma…sprained ankle…will need to be tended to after more immediate injuries are accessed and treated…"

**Beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…**

* * *

**Beep-beep…beep-beep…beep-beep…**

"How long has she been conscious?! She needs another sedative!"

"Heart rate climbing…"

**Beep-beep… beep-beep…beep-beep…beep-beep…**

"I asked for a sedative! Sedate her now!"

**Beep-beepbeep-beepbeep-beepbeep-beepbeep-beepbeep- beep**

"She's trying to move around!"

"Commander, help me with her restraints…"

"Her movement isn't voluntary…she's convulsing…"

**Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbe epbeepbeep**

"Someone get over to damn that machine and raise the sedation; I can't walk away from her while she's thrashing like this! We need to sedate her now before she does any more damage to herself…

**Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbe epbeepbeep**

"She's coding!"

**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

* * *

 

The first thing Mavis became aware of was how uncomfortably warm she was. Her skin felt overheated and itchy. It was like she was wrapped up tight in an ugly woolen sweater. Groaning, she shifted around and was assaulted by a fresh wave of pain radiating up her side and settling itself behind her eyes and around her temples like the world's most persistent migraine, making her moan feebly. She felt like she had been hit by a truck. A big truck…loaded with anvils…encased in cement. There wasn't a single part of her that didn't feel like a bruised apple; her chest surrounded in pressure like there was a boulder resting on it and her skull throbbing like she had taken a sucker punch to the face. And then there was that God awful itching!

She tried to open her eyes and was greeted with blindly bright lights. It was like a poke in the eye and she cringed; whining like a kicked puppy. If that was the bright light at the end of the tunnel, she sure as hell hoped there was a dimmer switch.

"Finally awake?"

Mavis jolted at the sound of the voice and inhaled sharply at the twinge it sent through her side.

Something lightly touched her forehead; a hand. "Easy, easy now," the owner of the hand spoke softly. Their voice was either laced with a slight accent of some kind or the speaker was just making it a point to annunciate as prim and precisely as possible. "You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to harm you. I am Dr. Chakwas and I'm here because you were in an accident. Do you suppose you could try opening your eyes again?"

Thinking about how painfully bright the lights had been, she considered refusing, but a part of her was curious about the person attached to this new voice. With a bit of reluctance, she opened her eyes the tiniest bit; squinting really, and the blurry image of a gray haired woman hazily came into view.

Dr. Chakwas smiled down at her. "There we are," she said, "that wasn't so bad, was it? You just need to get used to the light; that's all." The woman lifted a hand and in it she held a long skinny stick. "I hope you don't mind," she began, "But I need to take a quick look at you." She leaned over well into Mavis's personal space and pushed back on her eyelids, holding them open wider before clicking the stick and shining a piercingly bright light into her right eye, making Mavis hiss and flinch away from her.

"Now, none of that," Dr. Chakwas chided, laying her palm flat along the side of Mavis's face, firmly holding her head in place as her pointer and middle continued to force her eye open. She waited a moment, staring, and then clicked the little flashlight off, tucking the thing behind her ear. "Pupil dilation reacting normally to light exposure; same as last time," she murmured to herself. Next she snapped her finger next to Mavis right ear, followed by her left, though the left side sounded a bit softer; muffled. "You seem alert enough; hearing's as well as is to be expected," she pulled her hand away and raised her arm up horizontal to her body as an orange glow came over it like a circular disk. She busily prodded away on it like a keyboard with her free hand while Mavis stared on in shocked puzzlement.

The doctor seemed not to notice. "Things might be a bit unfocused right now and seem a little off to you," she stated, waving the strange device over Mavis's body, "Depth perception is heavily affected by the loss of one eye, but fortunately…"

"What?!" Mavis shrieked. She attempted to sit up and touch her face, only to recoil as the sudden movement seemed to anger her overly sensitive nerves and send a lightning bolt of pain up her spine.

"Calm down," Chakwas said, hands up placating like she was talking to a startled animal as the strange device on her arm disappeared, "The pain killers are beginning to wear off; you're going to need another dose. In the meantime you shouldn't make any sudden movements or you will just wind up hurting yourself." She carefully pushed back on Mavis's shoulders until she was lying back down. "Now as I was saying," she said in a stern voice one would use on a misbehaving child, "Depth perception is heavily affected by the loss of one eye, _but_ _fortunately_ you are only lacking the use of yours for the time being; it's just going to take you a while to adjust. You didn't lose the eye itself," she assured. "Give me your hand, here, the good one," she reached over her patient and took Mavis's right hand in her own and brought it towards her; towards the left side of the girl's face. "See?" she said, "It's still there."

Mavis ran the tips of her fingers over her face. Her eye was indeed still there, but it had been sealed shut with some sort of adhesive and a thick strip of cloth went over the corner of it; trailing up to wrap around her head. Nevertheless her eye was present and accounted for; she could feel the subtle bulge of it underneath her eyelid, whole and intact. What worried her was that the bandaged covered more than just her eye, but rather spread out over her cheek and jaw line as well as her ear.

"The eye is still there," Dr. Chakwas repeated, "it just needs to stay covered while everything heals. Opening and closing the eye repeatedly could agitate the skin around the socket." She was back to prodding around on that glowing orange disk again, "To be honest I'm a bit surprised you hadn't noticed it when you woke up," she mused, "then again, I imagine you are still a bit disoriented from the antibiotics and the after effect of the sedatives. Oh, and before I forget," the orange object pulled another disappearing act and she raised her now free hand up to Mavis's face, her pointer finger pointing straight up, "Without moving your head, follow my finger with your eye."

She drew slow, delicate circles in the air and watched carefully as Mavis's good eye tracked the movements. Up and down, side to side, she moved her hand. For good measure, she moved her finger as far to the left of Mavis's face while still being in sight to test how well the peripherals of Mavis's right eye were coping without the use of her left eye. The reactions from her patient were occasionally delayed or moved a bit ahead of their target in the direction Mavis figured Chakwas's finger was going, but for the most part, Mavis's sight was fine, all things considered.

"I'm going to be doing sight tests with you for a while," Chakwas declared, "As well as cranial nerve exams. Especially once your left eye is allowed to open again. Now, about your discomfort," she walked over to a machine and fiddled with the controls and before Mavis knew it, a tingling, pleasant numbness was seeping into her body, "there we go. I didn't give you too high a dosage this time. It's the first time you have been fully conscious since we treated you and it would be nice to use this moment of lucidity to discuss your condition."

Mavis closed her eyes and settled back into the pillows with a sigh as relief blanketed her body. The numbing was taking care of the itching as well as the pain and it was nice be rid of the sensation akin to ants crawling all over her body "Thanks, that's much better," she cleared her throat and winced at the dryness, "Could I have a glass of water or something?"

"Of course," the doctor acquiesced.

She could hear Chakwas moving about in the far side of the room and when she opened her eyes, or rather her good eye, Dr. Chakwas had returned, holding a glass out to her. She adjusted Mavis's bed into a raised position so that she was sitting up before giving her the glass of water. Mavis grabbed the proffered the drink with a minimum amount of difficulty due to the numbness in her arms. When she finally managed to get a secure hold on the glass, she took a huge, grateful gulp. "That's better," she sighed.

"Your throat might feel a tad sore," the doctor explained, "we only removed the breathing tube this morning. Perhaps I should explain," she added, seeing Mavis's startled expression. She pulled over a chair and sat down next to the bed, a thin electronic screen in hand; it looked like a tablet. "You were badly burned while you were on Horizon. According to the Commander, a small explosion of fuel tanks was apparently the cause."

"Horizon?"

"The colony, dear," Dr. Chakwas clarified, "the planet you were on."

"I was on another planet?" Mavis asked, bewildered.

Dr. Chakwas nodded her eyebrow quirked in question. "That doesn't sound familiar to you?"

"Not at all."

"I see," Chakwas tsked, making a note on her tablet. "Well that's where you were during the attack and you were injured in the fire that followed a minor explosion."

' _I don't think any explosion can be considered minor,'_ Mavis thought to herself, but she did not interrupt.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it; your condition was quite severe when they brought you in," Chakwas continued, scrolling through the notes on her tablet screen, "Smoke inhalation nearly damaged your lungs and the pesticide certainly didn't help matters. In the future if you are ever going to do something as risky as crafting your own personal flamethrower, I would recommend you at least use something with less harmful chemicals. Perhaps a hairspray?" she gave Mavis a wry grin, but her expression just screamed _'what were you_ _ **thinking**_ _?'_

' _I wasn't; that's the problem.'_ "I'll try to keep that in mind…" Mavis replied.

"Good," Chakwas said, in a business-like manner, "Your trachea was inflamed and vomiting caused you to take on fluid in your lungs, but we managed to clear that up quickly before you suffocated. Your voice might be hoarse for a few days but we prevented any lasting damage. You lost a substantial amount of blood from the lacerations on your neck and some internal hemorrhaging, but we found a donor with your blood type on board and caught the hemorrhage in time. Your burns, on the other hand were a far more difficult matter." She reached forward and her hand hovered just over the blanket splayed over Mavis's body, "May I?"

"Uh…sure."

Dr. Chakwas pulled the cover away and Mavis gasped in alarm. From her chest to her knee, her left side was covered in a thin layer of gauze and bandages. The wrappings crisscrossed over her left breast to her right and then up over her left shoulder from behind her back before looping under her armpit and around her forearm, forming a sort of makeshift bra. It explained why she had felt so itchy and overheated before and just thinking about it made her subconsciously reach over to scratch at the gauze, making Chakwas gently smack her hand away with a stern, "don't pick at it."

Remembering her eye, Mavis reached up to the bandages on her head and prodded at the cloth like cap it made around her skull. Judging by the feel of it, the bandages wrapped around the front of her head along her forehead a few times before switching into several strips of gauze going up along the left side of her head.

"We had to shave your head where the damage was," Chakwas explained. "There wasn't much left on that side of your head after the blast anyway, I'm afraid. Most of it was falling out on its own. Like most of your other side, the right side of your head managed to come out pretty much unscathed, apart from a bit of scorching over the bride of your nose and just above your right eyebrow. You're hand and arm sustained minimal damage," she lightly tapped a patch of gauze on Mavis's lower arm. "On the bright side you got to keep most of your hair on this side," she fingered a lock of black hair and held it up for Mavis to see. "It was such a shame; but at least half of it survived. It's a pity you dye it though. The roots of your hair are red, a much nicer color in my opinion," she left the raven locks drop, "But then it isn't my place to judge. It would have made more sense to simply shave your entire head, but I knew you would already have a lot to adjust to and cope with when the bandages come off and I felt it kinder to at least leave you with the hair you had left; you're going to have a hard enough time with recovery without having to walk around bald. A bit unorthodox I know." She presented Mavis with a medical gown that she could slip on easily, "Now that you can sit up and move around some, let's preserve your modesty."

Mavis allowed the clothing to be slipped over her, but wasn't really listening anymore. She wasn't trying to be rude, but…she was just _covered_ in so much gauze and bandages. She wondered what could lie underneath it all.

"The bandages make it seem worse than it really is," Chakwas assured her.

"Well then how bad is it really?" Mavis grumbled.

Chakwas was looking over her tablet again, "you had severe burns to roughly over 43% of your body; your left side to be exact. You're quite fortunate, had you not been turned somewhat away from the blast, you actually would have lost your eye." She tapped at the screen and typed something down, "The swelling around your eyelid may have done its part to prevent the flames reaching your eye as well; a fractured eye socket. It seems you sustained it prior to the explosion."

"I did?" Mavis didn't even remember that. As far as she could recall, she hadn't injured her eye when fighting her way out.

Chakwas interrupted her train of thought, "Unfortunately that didn't prevent you from receiving third degree burns. We lack a proper burn ward on the Normandy so we had to make do with the supplies and equipment we had on hand, but we were at least well stocked enough to prevent any infection and severe disfigurement. That isn't to say there won't be scarring, however." She gave Mavis a remorseful look. "I can treat scarring from lacerations," she said, "and I did for several cuts and punctures around your neck and face, but burns to the epidermis usually require a series of skin grafts over a long course of time and a burn ward would be better suited for that sort of procedure. We can replicate the skin cells needed here to keep you from walking around with your muscle tissue exposed, but the cosmetics are another matter entirely. We managed to reconstruct your ear at least, so I considered that a positive note. There is very little muscle tissue on the ears and they are mostly skin and cartilage so it goes without saying that the fire did quite a number on it. But like I said, we repaired the damaged, and may I just say you are very fortunate that your eardrum itself was untouched. You will be undergoing a series of hearing test though, just to be safe."

Mavis fiddled with the sheets, still thinking about the bandages that lie just beneath the gown, "So…how bad will the scarring be then?"

"We have changed your bandages several times and from what I have seen, your scars are relatively mild considering the severity of your injuries. And as I mentioned before, skin grafts and cosmetic procedures should take care of any aesthetic issues you may wish to have addressed, but it will be a lengthy process. If I had two years and the full facilities Cerberus had for the Commander, I could take care of it myself," she muttered as an afterthought. "There was one other thing…" she paused, apparently mulling over how to word what was on her mind.

"Yes?" Mavis prompted, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Chakwas seemed like a kind, well meaning woman, but what she had told Mavis so far hadn't exactly been pleasant to hear, no matter how politely or considerately it was worded.

That in itself was worrisome; nothing Dr. Chakwas had said so far had made Mavis feel very good about her condition. Sure, she hadn't lost an eye and overall she was lucky to be alive, but that did little to ease her mind on the whole matter. If Chakwas had something to say that even she as a medical professional wasn't too keen on sharing, whatever else she had to tell Mavis, it likely wasn't going to be good news.

Dr. Chakwas leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. "The severity of your burns coupled with the effects of the poisoning, as well as the internal hemorrhaging caused a great deal of strain on your body. You…how should I say this? You regained consciousness while undergoing procedures and went into shock. Your body was already very weak and with your heart rate…" she frowned, "you flatlined on the table."

"I…flatlined?" Mavis asked, the color draining from her face.

"You heart stopped," Dr. Chakwas said bluntly, "for three minutes, you were for all intents and purposes, dead. We had to resuscitate you."

"I died…" Mavis whispered, "I actually died…"

"For three minutes at the most," Chakwas reminded, "I'm only telling you because you have a right to know and to be frank I would rather you heard it from a professional than in passing or casual conversation with someone like, say, the Commander or Mr. Moreau."

"Yeah," Mavis said softly, not really listening, "uh…thanks for telling me…I guess…"

The doctor placed her hand on Mavis's arm. "I know this is a lot to take in right now," she said sympathetically, "you've been through quite an ordeal. I don't know too many who would actually take being told they were legally dead well."

"As opposed to being illegally dead…right?" Mavis joked weakly.

Dr. Chakwas laughed. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she agreed, "If it helps any, you're not the only one who's been dead before; the Commander can assure you that!"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story," Chakwas explained, "It's better off not discussed by me. You'll have to go to ask the Commander herself. Now," she leaned forward, "do you have any questions about your health or your injuries?"

"When can I see myself with the bandages off?" Mavis asked hesitantly.

"The gauze must stay on for a few more days at the least," Dr. Chakwas answered, "to prevent air-borne infection while the skin is still raw and healing. While we're on the subject," she brought up something on her tablet and gave it a once over, "when you came in, you were already weak from what appeared to be a quick acting virus in your system; regulating your vitals was complicated by fever and weakening of your immune system." She observed Mavis from over the top of the tablet, "Microbial life on the surface of Horizon can cause soil-borne diseases. Illness can be considered common for newcomers to the Horizon, but can be prevented by a series of vaccinations prior to visiting or settling on the colony…yet you seemed to have missed the necessary precautionary vaccines. Any idea why that is?"

Mavis shook her head, still reeling from her revelation, "No. I don't even know why I was on the colony to begin with. I just remember waking up and then I met…MIKHAIL!" she gasped, struggling to sit up, the pain medication making her limbs feel like jelly, "Where is Mikhail?!" How could she have forgotten about him? How could she have not noticed he wasn't with her after having been practically glued to the boy's side while down on the colony? "Mikhail needs me! He needs me!"

Dr. Chakwas pushed her back down onto the bed. "What did I say about sudden movements?" she scolded, "You can relax; Mikhail is perfectly fine."

Mavis went still. "He is?" she asked disbelievingly.

Chakwas nodded, "After the paralysis wore off, he only had a few cuts and bruises to tend to and we patched him up in no time at all. He was rather shaken up, understandably so, but physically no worse for wear. He's frequented the Med Bay since we brought you in; we managed to coax him away for some lunch with people who are actually conscious this time. He's taken all his meals in here since you arrived; he's even been sleeping here," she gestured to the bed on Mavis's opposite side. The sheets were rumpled like someone had been lying on them quite recently and propped up against the pillows was the stuffed Eli the Elcor doll Mavis had nabbed for Mikhail during their escape.

Mavis let out a sigh of relief and relaxed. Mikhail was okay; she had saved him. "When can I see him? How long have I been out, exactly?" she asked out of curiosity.

"A few days," Dr. Chakwas replied, bringing out the orange glowing object again and waving it over Mavis's body once more as she grabbed her by the chin and carefully tilted her head this way and that. "You slipped in and out of consciousness for a while," she explained, reaching forward to feel Mavis's neck and examining her sealed eye, "you weren't really aware of anything and we had one incident of you nearly striking one of the crew; you were rather disoriented at the time," she elaborated, "As for seeing Mikhail, he should be done with his lunch fairly shortly and I'm hoping Yeoman Chambers can convince him to wash up some. You'll have to forgive me if I don't call for him now. If he knew you were awake, he would rush in here in a second and I would prefer he take the time to have a decent meal and perhaps a shower before returning. All in all, Mikhail will be very happy to see you."

"I'll be happy to see him too in all honesty," Mavis confessed, "I was worried we wouldn't make it out of there. It was all so…I was terrified…"

"You've been through quite the ordeal," Dr. Chakwas reasoned, "Fear is understandable." She regarded Mavis, deep in thought, "Mikhail said that you could not remember who you were, outside of your name. Judging from your lack of knowledge for Horizon or why you were there, I take it he was telling the truth?"

Mavis stared down at her lap. "Yeah," she admitted, "I can't really recall anything about myself, what I was doing there or even what I look like," she smiled bitterly, "of course if I am scarred up, it won't matter much what I looked like before anyway, so I won't have any good looks to miss. I didn't even know my own name at first. I was talking to Mikhail and it just came to me."

"What do you mean," Dr. Chakwas inquired.

Mavis shrugged stiffly, "Just what I said; I just knew. Some memory came back to me, a little one. The details were a bit hazy but I'm pretty sure someone called me Mavis. I remembered a song too, sort of…but there wasn't really a memory to place to it…"

"Mavis," Dr. Chakwas repeated, "yes, Mikhail mentioned that was your name." She ran a scan over Mavis's head again with the circular disk, "Female, roughly around twenty-five years of age if I had to hazard a guess…"

"Twenty-six…"

"Pardon?" Dr Chakwas asked, startled.

Mavis blinked; she hadn't realized what she had said when she said it. She had spoken on impulse, without hesitance, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why she was so sure that was her age. She hadn't really remembered it so much as she just…knew it. "I-I think I'm twenty-six..."

"You think?"

"Yeah…" Mavis mumbled, "yes, that sounds about right. It…it _feels_ right." She rubbed at her brow in frustration, "Does that make any sense?"

Dr. Chakwas thought a moment, "Classic case of Amnesia, by the sounds of it. Memories can often times be triggered to return and then sometimes they have no reasonable trigger at all, just flitting in at random. Age is biological, remembering it was probably reflex."

"I'm older than I thought I was," Mavis mused. It was true; from the way Mikhail's mother had treated her, she had assumed herself to be much younger than mid twenties. She had viewed herself as a girl; not a woman.

"You're older than I thought you were too," Chakwas added, "But not by much. Twenty-six is still young," she assured. "Now about your memory loss; I found no swelling of the brain, but some head trauma could still very likely be the cause. I'll need to run more tests to be sure. I want you to stay in the medical bay with me for a few more days until I am sure it is safe to release you."

"Great…" Mavis groaned.

"Now let's take that catheter out, shall we?"

Mavis blanched and then fell back into the mattress with a hand across her eyes, "Just when I thought things couldn't get any better," she mumbled sarcastically.

Dr. Chakwas merely laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done. I humbly ask you to read and review.
> 
> The treatment for Mavis's burns were based on the research I found about the steps taken when a burn victim is brought in immediately after the accident that caused the burns and I wrote down her treatment in order of what steps came first in the list I found in the treatment process.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah I know I probably don’t have to post the disclaimer for every chapter, but you can never be too careful
> 
> Once again, this is an un-beta'd chapter, so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me. I'd also appreciate some feedback on whether or not I am even posting properly. I still feel very rusty around this site.

Mavis had had time to talk with Chakwas while having her IV taken out as well as her catheter. That was an experience she made the amused doctor promise to never, ever bring up in the future if she intended for them to have an amicable doctor/patient relationship. She didn't know what was worse; the catheter or the fact that she now had to use a bedpan until she was deemed fit to walk to a restroom.

After the more invasive and mortifying aspects of her checkup were done and over with, Mavis spent her time familiarizing herself with the medical bay, as Dr. Chakwas had called it. Once her good eye got used to the bright lights and the blurriness in her vision cleared, she could actually get a good look at the place. It was a rather drab, plain setup in color scheme; a large amount of white with various shades of gray covered just about every available surface. Large blinking and beeping machines sat in the corners and hung from the ceiling; a great deal of them having been apparently hooked up to her only a few hours ago. Chakwas had been kind enough to give her a brief explanation for some of them; one of them monitored her heart rate, another had been used to get air into her lungs, and so on and so forth. There were other beds and stretchers lined up next to Mavis and against the wall across from her, though that wall was made up mostly of windows. Through them she could see the interior of a larger metal room.

Across the way there was a small kitchen manned by a balding man in uniform. He had smiled and waved at her when he caught her looking earlier.

She had been briefed on some of the basic things Dr. Chakwas felt it important for her to know regardless of the state of her memories. Not that being on a space ship could be considered basic. Mavis's mind was still reeling from that little tidbit. She wasn't exactly sure why it struck her as strange or shocking to hear; from what Chakwas had explained, space travel had been quite common for quite a long number of years already, and yet it seemed so fantastical and new to her. Without her memories she feared most things would seem startlingly unfamiliar to her until she remembered just who she was.

"Many have been born and raised on colonies like Horizon," the doctor had said, "and there are those who rarely leave the colonies, if at all. If you were one of those few, then space flight would be a rare event for you and without your memories it could feel like a new experience altogether for you. It's just a theory, at least." She herself didn't look entirely convinced on the matter though, "Things will all make sense eventually I'm sure."

At this point Mavis surmised that she pretty much had no choice but to believe whatever was said to her until she remembered things on her own. It would help if more of her memories would come back to like her name had. For now she had to deal with being lost in a foreign and unfamiliar world; or universe…or galaxy…whatever, she'd sweat the proper terms later.

From what Chakwas had told her, the spaceship they were on was called the Normandy SR-2. There had apparently been an SR-1 at some point but Chakwas had told her it was a long story that she would rather not get into at the moment. The current Normandy was run by a Commander Shepard under the instructions of a group known as Cerberus, though Chakwas had informed her that all she needed to know about them at the moment was that they weren't thought too highly of. Commander Shepard didn't care much for their organization and was only working with them for the 'good of humankind'; whatever that meant. The Normandy was currently headed for some place called the Citadel, where the Commander had some business to attend to. Chakwas had mentioned something about the Citadel holding the embassies of most intergalactic races…apparently Eli the Elcor was based off of an actual alien creature…she wondered if they were nearly as pleasant and harmless to look at as their plush toy counterparts. She didn't really want to find out.

It was around that time that Dr. Chakwas had decided to let up on her lecture for the moment; she realized she was beginning to overwhelm Mavis and had mentioned something about looking into having her receive counseling from a Yeoman Chambers and that she needed to call the Commander to inform her that Mavis was awake.

Mavis felt tired and restless at the same time. She was beginning to wonder if it would have been better if she hadn't woken up; there was too much for her to take in. She attempted to sit up and pull her knees up to her chest so that she could curl up in a ball and she would have succeeded too if it hadn't been for how numb the pain medication made her feel and the fact that she caught Dr. Chakwas giving her a stern look out of the corner of her eye.

"Physical therapy isn't for another few days, Ms. Mavis," the doctor chastised, "Until then you need to lie still and let your body heal naturally."

Mavis sighed miserably and settled back into her pillow. She felt so out of place sitting there in the medical bay. She knew so little about herself and everything and everyone around her. The uniform clad people wandering around outside the med bay windows went about their business without a care in the world; like having picked up a charred and burned woman and a terrified little boy off of a colony riddled with monsters was an everyday occurrence for them. They didn't know her and apparently none of them had any desire to.

Well, maybe that was exaggeration. The bald man at the kitchen seemed rather friendly.

He kept glancing up at her between his dicing and frying. He was looking at her now in fact. He grinned broadly and gave her a wave that she managed to weakly return. He smiled wider at that. He watched her intently as he spread an assortment of food across the counter and began chopping it all up before scooping some of it into a pot and the rest into a frying pan. Mouthing something she couldn't make out through the glass, he gestured to the pan and then at her before patting his stomach and giving her a thumbs up. Mavis cocked her eyebrow at him and titled her head in confusion and for whatever reason it must have amused him because he laughed.

"Um…Dr. Chakwas?" Mavis called out hesitantly, making the doctor turn around in her chair and look at her.

"Yes, Mavis?" she asked.

"What is that man out there up to exactly?" Mavis gestured clumsily at the bald gentleman in the kitchen. He waved at her again, "I think he's been trying to say something to me."

"Hm?" Dr. Chakwas got up and looked out the window. A slight smile of amusement lit up her face. "That's Mess Sergeant Gardner," she explained, waving the man over, "The Normandy's cook and 'handyman' as he puts it. I believe he wants to bring you a late lunch."

"He seems awfully excited over lunch," Mavis stated confusedly.

Chakwas nodded, "he does his job with pride and he takes it very seriously." Gardner was heading towards them now, a tray in hand. "The crew may hassle him about his cooking and he about their table manners, but he has a soft spot for them, I believe. The crew is like family to him. And he's become fond of Mikhail over the past few days, so I imagine he's become quite invested in your well being since getting to know the boy."

The doors to the med bay flew open with a whoosh. "Hey there," Gardner greeted, sparring a polite nod for Chakwas as he entered "glad to see you awake for a change." Dr Chakwas helped him flip up a table from the side of Mavis's bed, "I bet it will be nice to get some actual food into you finally; not that nutrient mush they were pumping into you while you were conked out."

"Being 'conked out' means I haven't actually had the chance to notice and miss having real food," Mavis pointed out as Chakwas carefully eased her up into a sitting position.  
Gardner chuckled, making the wrinkles in his forehead scrunch up, "Consider that a blessing. Being awake and having all your food go in without tasting it should be a crime. There's nothing better than sitting back and enjoying a good meal." He finally got the table set up and squared away. "There we go," he said, sliding the tray of food under Mavis's nose, "A fried egg and some chicken soup."

"Oh, um…thank you," Mavis gave him a polite smile.

"It's a weird combination, I know," Gardner said, "but the doc here thought it was best to ease you back into regular meals slowly. Eggs and chicken broth are easy to swallow, easy to digest, and chock full of protein; it'll get your strength up real quick. I bet you'd like that; the sooner you're all better, the sooner you can get out of the med bay and back on your feet. I'd be going stir crazy after a few hours just sitting around in here." He clapped her on the back, being careful to steer clear of her bandages, "So dig in!"

It was a little awkward being expected to eat with the man standing over her like that, but it seemed Gardner didn't intend to leave until she tried the food. Focusing intently on her sluggish limbs, she fumbled with the spoon he gave her and managed to scoop some soup onto it with some minor assistance from Chakwas's steady hand on the underside of her arm guiding her.

Mavis brought the spoonful of broth to her mouth and swallowed; the soup sending warmth seeping into her body as it slid down her throat. There wasn't much taste to the soup, more like a light hint of chicken, but just the thought of filling her stomach seemed to make her feel a little better; soup made an excellent comfort food.

"It's good," Mavis said finally, not wanting to be rude.

Gardner's smile looked like it may very well crack his face. "About time some appreciated the hard work I do. Glad to hear it," he said happily, "nothing like good food to pick you up when you're feeling like crap, I always say. Once you're all healed up, we'll move onto some real food; sandwiches, stew, casseroles, and every Wednesday is chili night," he winked.

Chakwas snorted. "You're lucky your taste buds are still healing from the burns," she grinned wryly, "a lot can be said about the food here, but it isn't what I would call positive."

Gardner rolled his eyes. "Well pardon me for not having the culinary herbs and spices the namby-pamby chefs in the Citadel have," he said sarcastically, "Cerberus's funding is for keeping this ship up and running smoothly so we don't blow the hell up; it's not for turning my kitchen into a five star restaurant. Tell you what; you pay for the ingredients out of your own pocket and _maybe_ I'll whip you up a soufflé. Maybe then this crew will actually shut up and eat for once."

"Shepard said she would looked into getting you better supplies when we get to the Citadel," Chakwas chuckled, "perhaps you'll get your wish."

"We can only hope," Gardner sighed before redirecting his attention to Mavis. "You eat that food now," he encouraged, "I want to see you up on your feet as soon as possible. You worried that kid of yours sick."

"He's not mine—,"

" _Mavis!"_

Gardner chuckled, "Well speak of the devil."

Mikhail stood in the doorway, escorted by a woman in uniform; one of the crew most likely. The woman nodded to Chakwas and turned on her heel and left.

"Well I'll leave you to your lunch and let the two of you catch up," Gardner said, "The plumbing is acting up in the men's room and I better take a look at it before someone floods the place." He gave Mavis a grin and then headed out, patting Mikhail on the head as he passed.

"Mavis," Mikhail squealed, "You're okay!" he hurtled across the room to her and attempted to pull himself up onto her bed.

"Mikhail," Dr. Chakwas reprimanded gently, "I really don't think you should be doing that…"

"No," Mavis interrupted, "It's alright; he can sit with me. He's not doing any harm." She scooted to her left a little and patted the right side of her bed, "over here, Mikhail."

Mikhail rounded the bed, snatching up Eli the Elcor from his own bed as he went and Mavis did her best to help him as he scrambled up onto the mattress. She placed her arm around him as he settled against her, his head on her chest. "I was worried you wouldn't wake up," he told her, "I missed you."

Mavis pressed him against her and rested her chin on the top of his head. "I missed you too," she admitted. She had developed a strong attachment to him in such a short time and being around him made her heart feel lighter. As selfish as it sounded, she found comfort in how much he seemed to need her; it made her feel more useful than she actually was and holding him eased her mind. She relaxed into the pillows, running a hand through Mikhail's hair.

"Your hair's wet," she observed, petting the damp blonde strands, "You take a shower?"

"Mm-hm," Mikhail nodded, "Kelly said I needed to wash up before I started to smell funny." He giggled.

"Kelly?"

"Yeoman Chambers," Chakwas supplied, "I mentioned her earlier. She tends to Commander Shepard's schedule and messages. She is also the Normandy's resident psychologist. She's been looking after Mikhail when I am not available."

"Is that who just dropped him off?" Mavis asked. The woman hadn't stuck around; she had assumed this 'Yeoman Chambers' would want to talk to her after having taken care of Mikhail for the past few days since people seemed to believe Mavis to be the boy's guardian.

Chakwas shook her head, "No, that was Crewman Goldstein," she corrected, "Mikhail had lunch with her and Crewman Hawthorne today. I assume Yeoman Chambers had to go bring Shepard her messages?" the last part was directed at Mikhail.

"Yep," Mikhail replied, playing with his stuffed toy, "she said she would be back later."

"Alright then," Mavis said, "I guess I will meet her later then, huh?" She shifted slightly. "Want to help me with my lunch, Micky?"

Mikhail giggled at the nickname. "Okay!" he agreed, picking up her fork and digging it into the eggs on her plate before bringing it up to her mouth. She made a silly noise as she bit into the egg and Mikhail laughed.

They stayed like that for a while, Mikhail leaning into her embrace as he helped her eat and both of comforted by being backed together again. Out of the corner of her eye, Mavis spotted Gardner passing the window with some tools and a rag. He grinned at her again, and this time she genuinely returned the sentiment.

* * *

 

After Mikhail had helped Mavis get through a passable, though somewhat tasteless meal (thanks to her damaged tongue), the boy had deemed it important to tell Mavis about his time on the Normandy thus far. Interrupted only for another dose of pain killers by Dr. Chakwas, Mavis listened intently as Mikhail chattered away about anything and everything that came to mind; from the people he had met to the gadgets and machines the crew had shown him that operated the ship and kept it running. Just like Chakwas has said, Mikhail really had been adamant in staying by Mavis's side while she was unconscious and it took a lot of effort to convince him to spend time away from her. Aside from Chakwas, Gardner and Yeoman Chambers (or Kelly, as she had insisted on being addressed according to Mikhail) he had been spending time with a Gunnery Officer by the name of Garrus, who apparently was obsessed with calibrating the ship in his free time. Mikhail had referred to him as a 'Turian' several times while talking. Mavis had no idea what the word meant, but Mikhail was in such an excitement-fueled babble that he kept switching to new subjects and she wasn't given much of a chance to ask. It was probably some ship terminology, like Mess Sergeant, or Yeoman. There was also the chance the word was related to the 'aliens' that apparently existed alongside humans at the Citadel, but the thought was a little too surreal and worrisome for her to dwell on.

Mikhail didn't take notice of any of her confusion anyway, too wrapped up in what he was saying and trying to express to her just how cool it was to be on the Normandy. When he had finally conceded to leaving the Med Bay the day before, he was absolutely over the moon when he was brought to the bridge and was allowed to watch the pilot, a man dubbed Joker, fly the vessel. Mikhail said Joker was a funny little man who lived up to his name, teasing and jesting constantly, bold enough to even openly mock the Commander whenever she came to chat with him.

There was also another doctor of some sort on the ship; a Mordin Solus the Salarian, more meaningless jargon that Mavis could not comprehend. Whoever the man was he sounded amusing, at least by Mikhail's standards. According to the boy, this Mordin spoke very fast and liked to take big dramatic pauses when he was thinking out loud. Chakwas added that he had apparently assisted in Mavis's treatment and was the one who had applied artificial grafts to her skin to reconstruct her ear.

There was a 'pretty lady' named Miranda that Mikhail had run into, but she was a no nonsense sort of woman who spent most of her time in front of a computer in her private quarters. Mikhail had also met a man named Jacob who seemed nice enough but acted like he was in the middle of some sort of training whenever someone spoke to him; saluting and using a lot of 'sir's and 'ma'am's. There was also a pair of engineers whom Mikhail was convinced were in love with each other and going to get married someday, which had earned a chuckle from Dr. Chakwas; she seemed to share his sentiments. Mikhail mentioned something about there being some other people down near engineering, but that Commander Shepard felt that neither of them were what one would call 'people persons' and that Mikhail didn't really need to try and make friends with them.

The more Mikhail talked about the various crewmembers of the Normandy, the more curious Mavis became and the more interested she was in meeting them; especially the commander.

From what she had been told, it was Commander Shepard who had found her after she had caught fire and it was the commander who had doused the flames and rushed her to the med bay. Garrus and Jacob had also been with her, as well as someone named Kaidan, though he had chosen to remain on Horizon for one reason or another.

Commander Shepard had risked her life to try and save the colony and in doing so had saved her. Mavis shuddered at the thought of thought of the colony now. The images of that horrific place kept flashing before her eyes and refused to leave the forefront of her mind. She had no idea how Mikhail could sound so chipper after what they had been through, but then again he had apparently been kept very busy and occupied on the Normandy and probably hadn't had much time to think about it. Of course he could also such be very good at putting on a brave face.

"An-and then Joker told Garrus that he had a stick in his bottom and then he said- _wait!"_ Mikhail stopped mid sentence, "I need to go pee. Be right back!" he scrambled off the bed and darted towards the door.

"Have one of the crew escort you, Mikhail," Chakwas called out after him, "Never mind; he's already gone," she shook her head.

"Hey, um…Dr. Chakwas?"

"Hm?" Chakwas looked over to Mavis. With Mikhail gone, her patient sat staring down at her lap, eyes downcast.

"Yes, what is it?" Chakwas prompted.

Mavis fiddled with the bed sheets silently. "…What happened to…um…what," she paused chewing on her lip nervously, "…did…did they find Mikhail's mother?" She had wanted to ask for a while. From the moment she had seen Mikhail standing in the doorway of the med bay, she had instantly been reminded of the boy's mother. He looked so much like her; from his hazel eyes to his blond hair, even the shape of his face was the spitting image of the woman who had sacrificed herself for them. Mavis had wanted to ask what had become of her after the attack, but she couldn't bring herself mention it in front of Mikhail.

Any good spirits the doctor might have been in practically fell off her face in an instant. She looked off to the side, a deep frown set on her face. Sighing she turned back to Mavis and the girl felt her heart drop into her stomach with a splash when she looked into the elder woman's eyes.

"There were a large number of colonists unaccounted for in the aftermath of the attack," Chakwas said solemnly, "I'm afraid Mikhail's mother was among those not found."  
Mavis swallowed thickly, "I see…" Deep down she knew Mavis mother would not have made it out, but a part of her had hoped she was wrong. Mikhail had recovered from his paralysis relatively quickly by the sounds of it, which meant that the stings from the swarm were not fatal, just paralyzing. She hoped the meant there would be a chance Mikhail's mother would be alright, that she would be found and rescued. Now she had to accept that her prayers had not been answered.

"A-and…" Mavis took a deep breath, steadying herself, "and his dad?" She dreaded the answer.

"He is missing as well," Chakwas said, confirming her fears, "It would appear he was also taken." She stood up from her chair and crossed the room to Mavis. "I'm sorry," she said sadly, "they're gone."

Mavis couldn't even look at Chakwas, the hot sting of tears welling up in her eyes, "Does Mikhail know?"

"He does, though I'm not sure he understands what them being missing truly means," Dr. Chakwas tilted her head to the side contemplatively, "He doesn't seem to truly grasp the situation; I don't think it has sunk in yet."

"He's only six…"

"It's going to be hard for him to get through this," Chakwas nodded, "but not impossible," she patted Mavis's hand, "he has you. And Yeoman Chambers has offered her services while you are staying on the Normandy should you need it. I recommend taking her up on that offer; the both of you," she added, giving Mavis a scrutinizing glance.

"I'll keep that in mind," Mavis nodded, "I've got to ask, doctor; what… _what happened down there?"_

Chakwas frowned, "I'm afraid I'm not the best one to answer that question," she said, "I remained on the Normandy when the Commander went down to investigate the colony."

"So who should I be asking?" Mavis inquired.

"The Commander herself should be able to tell you," Chakwas replied, "I imagine she is going to have some questions for you as well…" as she said this, the doors to the med bay opened unexpectedly.

"You've got that right."

Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest was a stern faced woman. Her skin was startlingly pale and bore some faint scarring across high chiseled cheekbones. Her hair was a shocking, flaming red piled high onto the top of her head in a bun; not a single strand out of place. She wore a uniform similar to the other crewmembers that Mavis had caught a glimpse of so far, but this woman had an air of authority around her; an attitude that screamed, no, _demanded_ respect. She stared Mavis down purposefully; calculatingly, full, red lips pinched in a frown, one thin skinny eyebrow quirked at her.

But the most striking feature about the woman was her eyes; a kohl rimmed set of reddish hazel orbs. They almost seemed to glow around the edges. Mavis could recall only one time in her brief slot of memories where she had seen eyes like those; down on the colony, peering protectively down at her charred, smoking body. She may have been delirious at the time, but she knew these were the eyes she had seen in her last moments on Horizon, and she knew that the blazing crimson they had been back there was not her imagination.

 _This_ was the Commander Shepard she had been told about.

"Commander," Dr. Chakwas acknowledged Shepard, turning to fully face the woman and standing straight and stiff, "We have been expecting you." Her greeting was formal, but there was an undertone of warmth in it, of familiarity. From the way Chakwas had spoken of the Commander before, it sounded like she knew her personally rather than professionally like the crew of the Normandy; something told Mavis that few else on the ship would be able to talk so casually to Shepard the way the doctor did.

"I take it Yeoman Chambers gave you my message?" Dr. Chakwas asked.

"Yep," Shepard pushed away from the doorframe and strode into the room, "She spoke to me an hour ago. I would have been here sooner but Miranda has had me in and out of meetings."

"Ms. Lawson certainly isn't afraid to voice any complaints and concerns she has to you," Chakwas said.

Shepard snorted, "She always has something to twist my ear about."

"She keeps you on task," Chakwas pointed out, "I doubt her intention in doing so is to annoy you. She has to keep the best interests of everyone on the ship in mind."

Shepard rolled her eyes, "Yeah and she'd rather not be the one to report back to her boss if I manage to screw up." Despite Shepard's strict, militaristic visage, despite only having known her for less than a few minutes, Mavis was quickly noticing that Shepard didn't exactly act like the stern faced soldier she appeared to be. Her posture was relaxed, maybe even laid back and her demeanor was casual. She didn't even seem to have any problem discussing what was most likely a personal or even a classified matter of her job in front of a stranger like Mavis.

"So," Shepard said, redirecting her attention back to Mavis, "It seems our guest has finally come to." She strode up to Mavis and shoved a hand into her face. "I'm Commander Reina Shepard. I suppose we already met down on Horizon, but you weren't exactly in a position for introductions."

"Uh…yeah. It's nice to meet you," Mavis made an effort to lift her hand, but the affects of her medication hadn't completely worn off yet and the most she got as far as feeling in her limbs was a tingling sensation.

No doubt noticing her dilemma, Shepard casually snatched up Mavis's hand herself and shook it vigorously in greeting, "Likewise." She released Mavis's hand and let it flop back into the girl's lap, "Let's cut to the chase; you have questions for me and I have questions for you," she placed a hand on her hip and leaned against the bedframe, "so let's talk and hopefully we'll have some answers for each other. Sound good?" It was posed as a question, but her tone lead Mavis to believe there was no room for argument.

Warily, Mavis nodded.

"Good," Shepard said, "So that kid of yours has spoken an awful lot about you since he was brought in."

"He's not actually my kid—,"

"I know that, we've checked his files in the colony registry," Shepard said flippantly, waving her hand in the air, "Anyway, one thing that he mentioned most often was the fact that you don't remember who you are." She looked Mavis squarely in the eyes, "I'm here to determine if that is true. Is it?"

Mavis shook her head. "Unfortunately, yes," she said, "I don't really know who I am…nothing seems familiar to me."

"But you remember your name?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah, that sort of came back to me at random while I was talking to Mikhail."

"When was that?"

Mavis shrugged, "When we were hiding in the pantry…"

"Yes, the pantry," Shepard recalled, "we recovered security footage of you breaking into someone's home," she raised a hand haltingly when alarm flashed across Mavis's face as she went protest, "Relax, we can't really call trying to stay alive an act of theft or vandalism, so after being compensated for the damage done to the door, the owners let the matter drop. Compared to some of the other homes on the colony, the damage you did to their place can be considered in the minimum."

"Anyway," she said, back on track, "You managed to remember your name? Mavis, right? Mikhail told me."

"Yeah, that's my name," Mavis replied.

"How about your last name? Or where you live?" Shepard pressed.

Mavis shook her head, "No, just my first name. Oh, and how old I am; twenty-six."

Shepard regarded her carefully, "That's it though? You don't remember anything else?"

"Not really."

"If I may, Commander," Dr. Chakwas cut in, "There appears to be no noticeable trigger to her recovering memories. From what I understand, these random events and thoughts came back to her during casual conversation."

"I knew a song too…" Mavis said slowly, mulling over that moment in her head, "Mikhail was crying…and I was crying. I just wanted to do something to feel better, to help him feel better…and it just came to me without thinking. But I can't recall why I knew it…or who taught it to me," that blurry shape of a humming woman in her head still remained faceless, nameless.

"Do you at least remember when you came to Horizon?" Shepard asked, "Why you were there; if you were traveling with someone? Even if you can't remember a name, any sort of information would be useful."

Mavis shook her head again, "I just sort of…woke up there. I don't know if I lived there or not. Mikhail's mother said she didn't recognize me…"

"I see…" Shepard stared at a fixed point on the wall, troubled, her brow furrowed in thought.

Mavis leaned towards her slightly, "Is something wrong?" she asked apprehensively.

Shepard blinked, "No…" she said, waving the question away, "it's nothing. We're just sorting through the registry and databases still; trying to match names to faces. We need to know who isn't accounted for on the colony. We just haven't reached your name yet; it's a long list of people," she assured.

"You're probably right," Mavis looked off to the side, "Hey…Commander?"  
"Hm?"

Mavis glanced at Chakwas, the woman looking back at her sadly, "About Mikhail's mother…"  
Shepard stood up straighter, a far more serious expression taking place on her face.

"She saved my life," Mavis continued, "She was so kind to me. I never got to…I forgot to ask…" she looked at Shepard, "Who was she, Commander?"

Shepard stepped away from the bed, pensively walking across the floor. Dr. Chakwas handed her one of those tablet things and she tapped at the screen for a few seconds.

She returned to Mavis's side and held out the tablet. From the screen, Mikhail's mother stared up at her, donned in a decorated uniform with her goldenrod hair pulled back in a neat braid draped over one shoulder. Pride shinning in her eyes, she stood with her shoulders back and her chin out proudly. The picture almost seemed too real and Mavis resisted the urge to touch the screen.

"Lieutenant Katiana Bazin," Shepard stated, "Former decorated Officer for the Alliance Navy; honorably discharged due to pregnancy. Married to Richard Bazin; a civilian. She served in the First Fleet division. She was a good woman," Shepard observed, "Shame you didn't get to know her better."

"Did you know her?"

"No," Shepard shook her head, "We never met, but according to her file she was a fine soldier, respected, my kind of person."

"She was great," Mavis agreed, still staring at the screen, at her hero, Katiana, "She went out of her way for me; treated me like her own kid." Something on the front of Katiana's uniform caught her eye. "Hey," she began, "I recognize this. That's her necklace, isn't it?" She searched the room for the clothes she had worn on the colony, but they weren't anywhere to be found. The necklace had been in her pocket. Where was it now?

Shepard leaned over Mavis and looked at the picture. "That?" she dug into her pocket and pulled out something shiny and silver, "we had to throw out your clothes, there wasn't much left to salvage after the fire. But we managed to recover this." She held out Katiana's necklace. "It's actually a medal, as you can see in that picture," she explained, "There's a code on the back, see? It works as identification same as our dog tags. I guess she had it welded into a necklace." She carefully placed the necklace into Mavis's hand. "Not an easy task either," she added, "those things are made pretty durable. It's not surprising it survived the fire…though you will probably have an interesting scar from it on you thigh," she lightly patted Mavis's leg.

Mavis cradled the medal in her palm, getting a good look at it for the first time. It was a silver rimmed bluish star set over another star upside down, made up of metal strips. On top of it was a silver circle with another star in the center, the circle surrounded by half a wreath of laurels. It shined brightly in the fluorescent lighting of the med bay, different than how it had gleamed in the sunlight back on the colony, but still a sight to behold.

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

"A Medal of Heroism," Shepard mused, "they don't give that out to just anybody. She had to have really gone the distance in the line of duty. Like I said, she must have been a good woman."

Mavis nodded, "Medal of heroism," she repeated Shepard words, "A hero…she really was a hero." A lump rose in her throat. She gingerly closed her fingers around the necklace and brought it in close to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She could still see Katiana standing there in the fading sunlight, surrounded by chaos as everything came down around them, sad and resigned to her fate. Her eyes had spoke volumes as she gazed at Mavis; she truly trusted Mavis with all her being to look after her child. She had had faith in Mavis; more than Mavis had in herself. And then she had been swept up in a cloud of blackness.

Mavis sniffled, clutching at the necklace desperately. "To save a nobody like me," she whimpered, trembling, "to save a total stranger." A tear slid down her face, then two more, "I…I don't even know why I miss her so much. We'd just met; I barely knew her." A hiccup escaped her, "But I do…I miss her so much…"

Sheaprd looked awkwardly around, not sure how to handle the situation. She shot a questioning glance at Chakwas, but the woman just stared back at her, gesturing towards Mavis encouragingly. Carefully, Shepard put a hand on Mavis shoulder and rubbed it gently. "People are drawn together in times of crisis. I'm sorry for you loss…"

"Do you think there's a chance that his parents are still alive," Mavis choked out between tears.

Shepard thought the question over carefully, "There's no proof that those missing from the colony were actually killed, only taken," she replied, "As you saw with Mikhail, the seeker swarms were only for immobilizing the colonist. We won't know what happened to any of them until we find them. I was assigned the job of stopping the abductions and hopefully recovering those already taken."

"Please find them, Commander," Mavis pleaded, "Find her; for Mikhail."

"I will do what I can," Shepard assured her.

Mavis took a deep breath, struggling to compose herself. The last thing she wanted was for Mikhail to come back and see her crying; she didn't want to upset him. She fought to lift her good arm and wiped a hand across her face, scrubbing furiously at the eye that wasn't bandaged. "What's going to happen to Mikhail?"

"For now he is under the care of the Normandy," Shepard explained, "His closest living relative is an aunt on the citadel; Anna Koskov. She and her partner have a little girl roughly around Mikhail's age; it should make the transition easier for him."

"And…what's going to happen to me?" Mavis asked.

"We still need to find proper identification for you, so you will most likely be brought to C-Sec for processing. Citadel Security," she elaborated, "the law enforcement on the Citadel. They're also the best bet for finding a record on you. Fingerprinting and DNA tracing could potentially reveal who you are and if you have any family that can be contacted to come get you."

Mavis frowned, "So you're turning me over to the authorities."

"Not necessarily," Shepard disagreed, "When we contacted her, Mrs. Koskov expressed a desire to meet you; to thank you for saving her nephew. She has offered to house you while C-Sec tries to pinpoint your origin." She shrugged, "They'll naturally want to look into the living arrangements, but a bit of paperwork and I think you can be signed off to her care. A proper home is better than being passed off to C-Sec, right?"

"I suppose," Mavis agreed hesitantly, "I mean… I really should be there for Mikhail. He lost both his parents in one afternoon; I can't imagine how that must feel." In truth, she could. Waking up with no memories, no names or faces to recall, it was as if she herself was an orphan; there was no one she could call mother or father. There was no happy memory she could recall and comfort herself with in the absence of parents either.

The song she had recalled only brought a bitter feeling of longing. "I know I haven't known him for very long but he means something to me; I care about him, Commander," It was the truth but there was more to it than that. Mikhail was the one constant presence she had had so far. Since she first woke up, everything had been moving at a fast pace, with people coming and going; first Katiana, then the colonist that failed to escape with her, and now she was in a fresh new wave of strange faces. It was selfish of her to admit, but she needed to hang on to Mikhail; she needed someone she could call family so she would not go through this alone. If his aunt wanted to take her in and allow her to stay with Mikhail, she wasn't about to object.

"Then that's what we'll do," Shepard stated, "I'll have someone take care of it when we get to the Citadel."

The med doors opened at that moment. "I'm back!" Mikhail declared, scurrying into the room. He stopped when he saw Shepard. "Oh! Hi Commander!" he greeted with a smile, "did you come to see Mavis?"

"I sure did," Shepard replied, "And I thought I should see how our resident pipsqueak was doing."

"I'm doing great," Mikhail said, seemingly used to the nickname, "Mavis is awake now and she is going to get better in no time."

He smiled at Mavis and her stomach turn unpleasantly; she worried how Mikhail was going to be when their situation sank in. He had been so upset and frightened on Horizon, now he was all smiles and laughter. Either the relief of being saved by the Normandy was still an overwhelming high of excitement for him or it was quite possible he was in some sort of denial. She wondered if he was holding out the same hope that his parents could be saved as she was.

"You were gone quite awhile, Mikhail," Dr. Chakwas observed, "It shouldn't take that long to use the bathroom; you didn't go wandering again, did you?"

"No," Mikhail said evasively, trying not to look at Chakwas as he climbed back onto Mavis's bed, "I went to the bathroom, but then Garrus was going to see Joker and I wanted to go with him. You'll like Garrus," he told Mavis, "wait till you meet him; he's great!"

"I'm sure he is," Mavis said, smiling weakly.

Mikhail stared at her for a moment. "Hey," he frowned and tilted his head, with all the innocence of a confused puppy, "You're eyes are all red." He kneeled next to her and leaned forward, "they're all puffy too. Were you crying?" he asked in concern.

"Oh, uh…no," Mavis lied, slipping Katiana's necklace under the blankets, "It's nothing. Just…allergies; there must be something in this room that is bothering my eyes. Don't worry about it."

Mikhail watched her closely, still frowning slightly.

"I'm fine," Mavis insisted shakily, "really I am. Come here," Mikhail tucked himself into her side and she managed to get an arm around him. "That's better," she said, "All nice and cozy. Everything's fine," she sniffled and feigned a laugh, "just allergies."

"Sorry for the intrusion, Shepard," someone's voice came from the door, but Mavis didn't bother to look up at the speaker, too weary and tired and just wanting to soak in a moment of solace with Mikhail, "I don't mean to interrupt but Mikhail had insisted I come meet his friend."

"Garrus, you came!" Mikhail cried, "Mavis, it's Garrus," he said, prodding Mavis, "He came to see you, look!"

Mavis smiled in amusement at Mikhail and turned to the door. When her eyes landed on the person standing there though, she stiffened up and her arms instinctively tightened around Mikhail as she did so. She stared at the figure in the doorway and cried shrilly, " _What the hell is that?!"_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah I know I probably don't have to post the disclaimer for every chapter, but you can never be too careful. Let me know if you get tired of seeing this.
> 
> Once again, this is an un-beta'd chapter, so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me. On that note, if anyone reading this is a beta or knows of an available one, please feel free to contact me. I really need someone familiar with the Mass Effect story to help me catch my mistakes here.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Commander. I didn't expect her to react that way."

Shepard and Garrus stood in the Normandy's Main Battery room. While it probably would have made sense to simply go to her private quarters or even the Communications room like she did for usual briefings, Shepard felt it best to stay as close to the med bay as possible should Chakwas need her assistance with Mavis again.

Mavis's first meeting with Garrus had been, for lack of a better word, _disastrous_. There hadn't even been a chance to properly introduce them to each other before Mavis had started screaming like she'd just seen a Thresher Maw. Both Shepard and Chakwas had attempted to calm her, but the second Garrus had taken a step forward to join them, her screaming increased and she had recoiled into the far side of the bed.

That was when things truly got out of hand. Mikhail grew upset that Mavis was screaming and was further bothered by the fact that she did not seem to find comfort in his reassurances, no matter how hard he tried. Mavis's screaming and cowering quickly devolved to shoving Mikahil behind her and going so far as too push him off the bed entirely, presumably to keep him out of Garrus's reach. She had managed to back herself up so far against the bed that she almost fell off the other side of the mattress, which had prompted Garrus to rush forward to grab her before she did so. Of course that only succeeded in scaring her even more and caused her to intentionally lunge off the bed. Shepard, seeing no other option, had called for EDI to send down assistance while Chakwas joined Garrus in attempting to get hold of Mavis. Above all the din Mikhail could be heard torn between crying fretfully and accusing everyone of purposely upsetting Mavis.

By the time Jacob and two of the crew had arrived on the scene, Mavis had successfully managed to unplug herself from several machines while reopening some stitching. She had barely managed to get a foot on the ground when she discovered that the attack on Horizon left her with a sprained ankle that she _really_ shouldn't walk on, causing her to topple to the floor in a mess of limbs, bed sheets and a thankfully empty bedpan. The necklace she had been holding had clattered away across the floor in all the confusion as she thrashed around. She hadn't been exactly thrilled with Jacob and the two crewmen attempting to restrain her either, squawking hysterically like an indignant parrot and biting at their fingers when they got too close. It was when Mavis tore out her IV and actually tried _stabbing_ at Garrus with it that Shepard had finally had enough of giving orders and decided it was time she take matters into her own hands.

With what Chakwas would no doubt later admonish her for as unnecessary roughness, she had launched herself into the fray and gotten hold of both of Mavis's arms. She had then proceeded to straddle the irate woman's legs and pin her to the ground while Jacob reinserted the IV under Chakwas's guidance. Chakwas went to work right away in sedating Mavis after that. The injured woman still had some hysteria-born fight left in her though and put up something of a struggle while the sedation took effect, so they deemed it necessary to use restraints once she was deposited back in her bed.

By the time everything was squared away and back in running order, they had gathered quite the crowd outside of the med bay. Well it hadn't been much of a crowd so much as it was a segment of uniformed crew all standing suspiciously close to the windows while still trying to look like they were doing something remotely productive. Once Shepard's eyes had landed on them, the majority of them dispersed, eyes on the ceiling, inconspicuously wandering away like they hadn't been staring at all, she was sure that she had even heard some of them whistling nonchalantly. Not everyone left right away though. Zaeed had lingered behind. He had stood staring back at Shepard through the window, looking for all the world like he had had the good fortune of stumbling upon front row seats to some great performance. He had seen the whole debacle unfold with something suspiciously like amusement, having apparently deemed the whole mess interesting enough to watch but not important enough for him to have been willing to lend a hand to. He simply gave her a shrugged before sauntering away. Smug bastard.

While Chakwas had shooed the stragglers away and calmed down Mikhail, Shepard had remained behind to figure out just what the hell had happened. Considering Garrus was pretty much the unwilling catalyst of the whole spectacle, she thought it best he stay behind too. Chakwas however had been wary about Mavis having another outburst should she wake up and see Garrus again and had insisted they not be in the med bay when Mavis did come to so they retreated to Garrus's usual abode on the Normandy.

And so now she stood in dim lighting of the Main Battery with Garrus apologizing to her for something she couldn't honestly hold him responsible for in the first place.

"I really am sorry, Shepard," Garrus said again.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Shepard reassured him, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I doubt anyone thought she would freak out like that. I get that she has been through a lot but I'm not used to dealing with someone so…all over the place with their emotions like that. This is why I prefer not to deal will civilians. Soldiers are trained to handle most any situations so that they can function enough to get the job done without compromising their entire team. But civilians are so upfront with what they're feeling; I'm not used to having someone looking to cry on my shoulder."

"You'd think I was one of those husks from the way she reacted to me," Garrus stated pensively. It was clear he was bothered by it; most people who cringed in fear of him reacted that way because of his formidable skills and deservingly earned reputation, not because of his race.

"Try not to take it to heart, Garrus," Shepard told her friend, placing a hand on his shoulder; "At least her kid likes you. We'll be rid of her once we reach the Citadel anyway. Then her xenophobia will be C-Sec's problem."

Garrus shook his head, "I don't think that's it, Shepard."

Shepard frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't think that little display back there was the typical xenophobia."

"What," Shepard asked, more than a little confused now.

"You saw how she reacted," Garrus gestured helplessly with his hands, not exactly sure how to put his thoughts into words, "She wasn't acting like that out of hate or distrust towards me because I was a foreigner in her eyes; we've encountered that type before, Terra Firma being the biggest offender of racism in large numbers. But her, she was _terrified_ of me. She looked at me like she had no idea what I was; like she had never seen a Turian before." Garrus paused, "Shepard…I don't even think she knows what a Turian _is_ …"

Shepard looked at Garrus like he had sprouted a second head. "You're kidding."

"I'm afraid he isn't Commander."

Chakwas walked into the Main Battery solemnly.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Commander," she apologized, "I have Jacob watching over Mavis and Mikhail right now; I felt it was important I speak with you."

"I take it that it's about what happened back there, huh?" Shepard guessed.

Chakwas sighed. "Not even an inkling of familiarity to Turians," she said despairingly, "And she didn't seem to recognize the term 'Salarian' when Mikhail was telling her about Mordin. She even seemed genuinely shocked to learn that the doll she found on Horizon was of an actual alien race, the Elcor."

"You heard her back there," Garrus said to Shepard, " _'What the hell is that,_ ' those were her exact words. She had no idea what she was looking at when she saw me; I was something completely new to her."

"Well amnesia would have something to do with that, right?" Shepard inquired. She looked to the doctor for reassurance.

Chakwas shook her head, "Generally no. Amnesia does not normally affect Non-declarative memory; the things we know and remember reflexively if not instinctually," she explained, "Things like how to eat, how to tie our shoes, that a bed is for sleeping, what silverware is used for. Things that are taught to us in youth and are essential to our daily living and understanding are a different aspect of memory than those of specific names and events or episodic memories; they are a different section of memory entirely and they stay with us, knowledge we recall without much trying."

"So that's the same part of the memory that should recognize what Garrus is?" Shepard asked, glancing at her friend.

Garrus gave her a shrug.

Chakwas hummed in affirmation, "Races and ethnicities generally fall into the Non-declarative memory category. A human with amnesia still knows they are human and they normally don't find it strange to see someone of a different race or ethnicity provided it was something they knew reflexively prior to losing their memory. And humans have been aware of alien races like the Turians for decades."

"Especially the Turians, if not any of the others," Garrus pointed out, "The First Contact war marked humans' first encounter with sentient alien life to begin with."

"It's a basic part of our history," Shepard added, "Has been for years."

"Exactly," Chakwas agreed, "And yet here we are with a case like Mavis. The only way I can make sense of such knowledge not being Non-declarative and reflexive to her is if it hadn't been taught to her as common knowledge to begin with."

"How is that possible?" Garrus asked, "Horizon is far from a cloistered human environment. They are fully aware of Citadel races and I am willing to bet some have even married into their families at this point. She would have had to been raised in a bubble to not know what a Turian is."

Shepard tilted her head in bafflement, "I don't think it's even possible to be raised that sheltered in this day and age."

"That's not all," Chakwas said, "Remember when you first brought her in to me? She was suffering from airborne infection; she hadn't been properly vaccinated before coming to the colony."

Shepard nodded, "That's right. I remember you mentioning that during her initial treatments. So even without official records we can surmise that she truly didn't live on Horizon."

"That in and of itself is strange," Garrus stated, "she wasn't listed in the registry for Horizon and no on remaining on the colony knew of her. And so far we haven't found any other record of her in the shuttle logs to and from the colony."

"So we've all but ruled out Horizon as being her home now, that's good," Shepard said, "Now we just need to figure out how she got there and how she managed to skip medical protocol."

"Then you should also try and find out why she lacked any form of communications device," Chakwas stated.

Garrus perked up, "That's right," he recalled, "When we found her, I tried to talk her down and she didn't seem to understand me at all. There wasn't really any external device with her that could have translated for me so we had to use the function on our omni-tool."

"Not that it did much good anyway," Shepard said, "she passed out pretty quick. As it is, the ones on the omni-tool aren't as efficient as our sub-dermal implants anyway. I still kept my omni-tool on when we first brought her in for treatment me though, just in case."

"Miranda pulled protocol on me," Chakwas admitted, "She requested that I put in a sub-dermal implant."

Shepard eyed her warily, "Requested, or ordered? Did she pull protocol on you? On _my_ ship?" The eerie blue currents of the commander's biotics crackled around her fists as she squared her shoulders and headed for the door, prepared to give the self declared 'perfect human' upstairs a piece of her mind. It was Chakwas hand coming down on her shoulder that stopped her.

"She impressed upon me the importance of doing so," Chakwas sighed, "Mavis had been flitting in and out of consciousness for a while and Ms. Lawson thought it prudent that she be able to understand Mordin if he was present when she came to. I had intended to use a handheld device with her for the duration of the journey back to the Citadel, but Ms. Lawson insisted. I wanted to speak with you first but she had you quite occupied with dealing with the fallout of the colony's abduction. To a degree I can see her reasoning, an implant, while not the simplest of procedures, is the most convenient for longtime use," she shifted uncomfortably, "I only wish I had been given more time to consider the matter before the choice was made for me. I still haven't told Mavis about the implant. I'm not entirely comfortable with having done it without consent of the patient first."

Shepard frowned, "I'll admit it makes the most sense; sub-dermal implants are the most common and durable. But I still don't like that she went around my authority to have that done to someone under my guardianship," she sighed, "I'm sure Miranda means well, but her way of going about things leaves a lot to be desired. She can't make decisions like this on someone's behalf and then use the whole 'it's for the greater good' excuse to justify it." She scoffed in frustration, "Of course it wouldn't be the first time Miranda did something without getting permission first. She certainly didn't ask before reviving me."

"Try not to sound to bitter about being resurrected, Shepard," Garrus quipped, hoping to lighten the mood some before Shepard could go off into some dark, brooding place in her mind.

"I assure you, every day spent with you and your wonderful sense of humor more than makes up for having been a Cerberus experiment without my consent," Shepard muttered sarcastically.

"You're missing the point, Commander," Chakwas cut in, "Mavis had no means of communicator or translator on her person when you found her and she lacked any implant of one as well. A woman her age _should_ have some form of device to aid in communication, especially if she was traveling to the colony from another planet. In this age it is a bit unheard of for someone traveling inter-planetary without any precautions for interacting with other races. Most children grow up with standard language courses at the least."

"And judging by how little she understood Garrus on Horizon, it doesn't sound like she had any of that teaching," Shepard mused, "So aside from her first name, she's pretty much Jane Doe with no knowledge of alien life and she managed to travel to a colony on a different planet without standard procedures," Shepard sighed, "Great. Now what the heck are we going to do?"

"Well for starters, I think we should probably tell Miranda," Garrus suggested.

'Oh goody," Shepard groaned, "Because I just _love_ telling her every single solitary detail of what happens on _my ship_ ," she muttered sarcastically.

Garrus allowed himself a small smile at that, "You certainly aren't her biggest fan, are you?"

"It's not that I hate her," Shepard insisted, "Though her methods could use some severe moral questioning. I mean, it's almost hypocritical. She spends her childhood resenting the lack of say in how she lived her life and then when she gets away and has some freedom, it's like she is unable to sympathize with how others must feel when she waltzes in and takes control, flinging around her claims that it is the best way to go about things!"

She paused and took a deep breath, exhaling deeply through her nose, "But no, I don't hate her. I'm just…she frustrates the hell out of me sometimes. Call it biased or petty or a grudge, whatever you want to call it, but I don't feel much like cozying up to someone who barely batted an eyelash at bringing someone back from the dead only to drag them into a gunfight the second they are conscious. But I digress; it's her boss I've got a problem with. He's got his own agenda, and I don't like being someone's pawn. I didn't take down Sovereign so that I could be someone's lackey." She crossed her arms, "I agreed to stop the Collectors and save the colonies, but that doesn't mean I appreciate having him keeping tabs on me to make sure I am doing it to his exact specifications."

Garrus grinned, "It could be worse; for all we know he could have bugged your room."

Shepard crossed her arms, "I wouldn't put it past him and I bet you Miranda would do it if the order came down. In fact I'm pretty sure that I can't even take a piss without the Illusive Man knowing about it somehow." Shepard mimed reading off of a file in a prim and professional, though monotonous tone of voice, "9:35am Shepard entered restroom in personal quarters. Proceeded to urinate. Urination lasted 6.5 seconds. Three sheets of bathroom tissue used. Shepard exits restroom; forgot to wash hands…"

Chakwas laughed dryly, "Really, Commander!"

Garrus shook his head, chuckling, "Very crass, Shepard."

"Hardy-har-har," Shepard drawled, punching him lightly in the arm, "So...about our guest."

Garrus followed her gaze to the door, "Like I said Miranda will want to know about this. And I think it would be a good idea for Mordin and me to get to know Mavis."

"Really? After all that?" Shepard asked, bemused. She shook her head, "But you're right, I see what you're getting at. We're taking her to the Citadel, one of the largest integration of Alien races. If Mavis is bothered by you, she's going to have an aneurism in C-Sec alone; more than half the officers are Turian and Salarian. It would be best if she knew what to expect before she got there. But we will need to go slow with her. Chakwas will never forgive me if I cause her patient to try and run off again before she is healed. Will you, doc?"

"You know me well, Commander," Chakwas agreed.

"Wait…" Shepard paused on her way to the door, "I just thought of something."

"Yes Commander?"

"What is it, Shepard?"

Shepard stared at a fixed point on the wall, thinking, "Chakwas, back before Mavis woke up, a day ago I had mentioned that the security feed we collected showed Mavis hiding in someone's home with Mikhail." She turned to address Garrus as well, "The pantry was their chosen place of cover, remember? But from what I could tell, Mavis didn't seem too sure of how the haptic interface worked; Mikhail had to open it for her." She frowned, "After Mikhail mentioned the trouble Mavis had in remembering her own name, I considered the possibility of her memory loss having an effect on her knowledge of technology." She turned back to Chakwas, "You didn't outright tell me I was wrong, but now that I think about it, you didn't exactly look too convinced about it either. This isn't normal, is it?"

Chakwas shook her head, "Like I said, if such technology was used in her everyday life, she would still know it now due to it being a part of routine, something she encountered on a regular basis ingrained into her mind reflexively."

"So she should have still known how to operate the door in that house even with her mind being in the state it was." Shepard paused, lost in thought.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked her concerned.

"Garrus," Shepard murmured, "If Mavis being afraid of you is because she's never seen a Turian before…then she doesn't know how to use the tech on the colony because she has never _seen_ technology like that before…" she looked at Garrus in utter bewilderment. "Just where exactly did this girl come from?"

* * *

"We'll be at the Citadel in no more than a week," Miranda began, addressing those gathered around the table in the Communications room, "It would be best if our time there were brief, no more than a few days at best."

"We'll need to restock our supplies," Jacob stated from her left, "requests were made from engineering for some necessities."

"The same goes for Gardner in the kitchens," Shepard added, "the crew thinks his food could use some better ingredients and frankly I'd have to agree."

Jacob snorted, "I think we can all agree on that. Then there is the matter of the two colonists we will be dropping off."

"We'll discuss that in a moment," Miranda cut in, "First things first. We've been tasked with enlisting the help of Kasumi Goto, an expert infiltrator and saboteur, mastering in stealth combat with a penchant for retrieving information. Our attempts at contacting her have failed. She is no doubt well known by the higher authorities on the Citadel; her work isn't exactly legal and her elusiveness would put her case file under higher jurisdictions than common C-Sec officers. It would be Spectres who would get the assignment to apprehend her. Shepard, you can use your Spectre status to access any files they may have on her activities to better pinpoint her location."

"Uh, won't she have to reinstate her Spectre status first?" Joker's voice piped up over the comm system.

"Remind me again why Mr. Moreau is a part of this meeting?" Miranda asked.

Shepard shrugged, "He's part of my crew," she said simply, "I trust him."

"Plus my charming personality tends to lighten the mood," Joker stated smugly, "And I'm just saying that Shepard's technically still dead as far as anyone outside of Cerberus knows."

"Aside from the civilian we will be leaving Mavis and Mikhail with," Garrus said, "She knows that Shepard is the one who saved them, right?"

Shepard shrugged, "Kelly is the one who contacted Koskov to alert her to her sister's abduction. Technically all that was stated was that a ship formerly under the Alliance Navy rescued her nephew." Technically the current Normandy was only _modeled_ off the one formerly under Alliance command, but if the majority of alien supporting humans had less than positive views on Cerberus, it was best they not go around telling everyone about Shepard's current work with the group.

"So my point still stands," Joker said, "As far as anyone on the Citadel is concerned, Shepard's still dead. First she'll probably need to make a 'back from the dead' entrance and deal with all the countless eyebrows that it's going to raise. Her Spectre status died when they thought she did so she'll probably have to get reinstated before she can start making orders to see any classified files."

Miranda nodded, "I suppose you have a point."

Shepard smiled. "See," she said, "That's why he's in on this meeting. He's smarter than you give him credit for."

"Don't forget how good looking I am—,"

"Don't push it, Joker," Shepard cut him off, "I can just as easily put you on mute."

"Shall I, Commander?" EDI's disembodied voice offered.

"Hey!"

Shepard smirked, "Not yet EDI. But I'll keep it in mind."

" _Anyway,"_ Miranda said tartly, "I agree that Shepard will need to deal with the reinstatement before anything else on the Citadel is done."

"I'm going to meet with Anderson when we get there," Shepard stated, "He contacted the Normandy himself. Apparently there are at least rumors of my return to the living and he wants to confirm for himself that it is true."

"He's a Councilor now if I recall," Miranda said thoughtfully, "He'll no doubt be able to reinstate you."

"Regardless of whether he can or can't, I want to see him," Shepard declared adamantly, "He's the most trusted person I know on the Citadel, especially when it comes to the Council. He deserves to know about my working with Cerberus as well as my reasons for it and I want him to hear it from me and not some idle gossip or rumors."

Miranda pursed her lips, "Fine. Then I guess the next matter to address is the two colonists down in the Med Bay."

"We will be looking to get clearance to put them both in the care of Anna Koskov," Shepard confirmed, "We won't hold any responsibility for them after that and can continue on with stopping the Collectors."

"Shepard," Miranda began, "Having them on board could provide us with an opportunity to gather further information on the Collectors. They experienced the attack firsthand; the majority of the survivors were tucked away in the safe houses whereas these two Colonists not only were out in the middle of the worst of the attack, but also made it out alive and evaded capture."

Shepard considered this carefully, "So they might have noticed things beneficial to us."

Miranda nodded, "I admit it is a slim chance, but that's still better than none. I have already sent Yeoman Chambers to speak with Mavis about her recollection of the attack; without Mikhail present." At the surprised and questioning look Shepard shot her, Miranda added dryly, "Despite what you may or may not believe, I am not so unfeeling as to interrogate a child, Shepard."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow, "Glad to hear that you have a heart."

"Commander," EDI interrupted, "Ms. Lawson requested thatI report any information discussed between Yeoman Chambers and Mavis pertaining to the Collectors."

Shepard leveled Miranda with an exasperated glare, "Really? Just when I thought you had some morals."

"Any information she might have on the Collectors is vital," Miranda insisted.

"The nature of Chamber's session with Mavis has moved its focus onto what transpired on the colony," EDI informed them, "Shall I transfer it through to you."

"This could be considered a complete invasion of privacy," Garrus stated. A quick glance around the table showed that most of those present weren't too comfortable with it either.

"In case you haven't noticed, we haven't exactly been on the straight and narrow up till now," Miranda reminded them, "We've enlisted the help of a Turian sharpshooter exacting vigilante justice on Omega, a trigger-happy bounty hunter, a convict responsible for the destruction of a Cerberus research facility and the countless deaths of those inside, including children and we're attempting to recruit a master thief who has eluded some of the Alliance's most skilled Spectres and authorities. And this transgression against Mavis pales in comparison to the number of questionable judgment calls you have made in the field, Shepard. I understand your reservations on the matter, but the threat the Collectors pose against the human colonies is dire and whatever information Mavis may have could prove useful to us. Mavis will be unaware of what we are doing anyway."

Shepard frowned, disapproval clearly written into the lines of her face. "Let it be known I don't approve of what you're doing Miranda," she said. She sighed, massaging her brow tiredly, "patch it through, EDI."

"Yes Commander," there was a moment of silence and then Kelly's voice came through over the comm system.

" _I'm sorry about your friend, Mavis," Kelly said softly._

" _She wasn't really a friend," Mavis's voice was distant, tired, "she saved my life and I'm grateful, but I was only with her briefly before they took her…you're sure that…Tursin guy's gone?"_

" _Turian," Kelly corrected her, "Yes, he's gone. As I stated before he is on another level of the ship right now; he won't come in here unless you agree to it. But really, you have nothing to worry about. Garrus is a truly kind person. He would never harm you. In fact, he was quite concerned for your safety and has been a wonderful friend to Mikhail."_

" _I'll take your word for it," Mavis said, "He…he startled me. He looks so…I wasn't expecting him."_

" _You're uncomfortable with him," Kelly said sympathetically, "Don't dwell on it for now. Let's change the subject. Tell me more about Katiana. Are you sure you didn't know her before you lost your memories. Perhaps you two were friends."_

" _N-no. No, she said herself that she didn't know me. And there wasn't exactly anyone I could stop and ask to see if they knew me either; we were all trying to escape. They were all just running past me when I woke up; Katiana was the only one who even stopped to help me."_

" _So you were just lying there?" Kelly asked._

" _Yes."_

" _You don't recall anything prior to that?"_

" _No," Mavis said, "everything's a blank."_

" _Is there anything of significance that you can remember from when you woke up then?" Kelly prompted, "Anything at all?"_

" _Not really. When I opened my eyes I was looking at the sky, just lying there in the grass. My head hurt. And my chest…my arms too. Everything hurt, really."_

" _You were already injured before the attack?"_

" _I guess so. Katiana said I looked pretty beat up. I know it doesn't make sense, but when I was with her, it didn't hurt as bad. She was soothing, I guess."_

_Kelly was silent for a moment. "She was a parent; she was probably very nurturing to you which in a time of fear and confusion would be a comfort to anyone. You formed a close bond with her in a short amount of time, which is understandable, given your lack of memories of any close or familiar ties. And you seem to have done the same with Mikhail; taking it upon yourself to look after him. You almost lost you life in doing so."_

" _I was doing it as much for myself as I was for him…"_

" _Does that bother you?"_

" _Not really. I mean, I wanted to live. I was terrified and I wanted nothing more than to get away. Looking after Mikhail just gave me more reason to try and survive. And having him with me made me feel less alone."_

" _Understandable. Mavis…do you mind if I ask you about the attack itself?" Kelly asked, "We've talked about Katiana and your injuries, but you've avoided talking about what actually transpired after you were left with Mikhail."_

_More silence. Mavis sounded hesitant when she next spoke, resistant even, "I…We were…"_

" _Take your time," Kelly coaxed._

" _Where do I even begin?" Mavis asked bewildered, "I guess…at first I thought…I thought the bugs that came after us were all I had to worry about."_

" _But that turned out not to be the case."_

" _Yeah. There were other…things out there, but the bugs came first."_

" _Let's focus on that for now. What can you tell me about them?"_

" _They were like…this big dark cloud in the sky. They came after us in droves. They moved so quickly. They-they singled people out and bit them, or stung them, or whatever it was they were doing and people just froze up."_

" _So they targeted the colonist immediately?"_

" _Yeah…they honed in on people with no trouble at all. I saw some people frozen behind crates and boxes. It was like the swarms knew exactly where to look; they knew where to find us. If I hadn't locked us in that pantry, Mikhail and I wouldn't have gotten away; they didn't seem capable of getting through solid objects. I guess that's why the people in the safe house made it out okay. Either that or they decided we weren't worth taking…"_

" _But you didn't stay in the pantry. Why is that?" Kelly asked._

" _I hated sitting there in the dark," Mavis admitted, "I think I might be afraid of the dark, I guess. Not sure if that is a memory or not, but the darkness was terrible. It made everything scarier. I couldn't see; how would I know if they were there? What if something worse was hiding in there with us? I'd never see it coming, now would I? I kept waiting for them to find us; it was driving me crazy. I even started to wonder if being found by them would be better than sitting there scared stiff waiting for them; it was torture sitting there in the dark, waiting for the buzzing to close in on us. And what if they did find us? We were corned; I barely knew how to protect myself, let alone Mikhail." She sighed, "I left the pantry because…I guess I was hoping I would find someone who could help me, someone else who could protect us both so that I wouldn't have to. Like Katiana had done for me. A part of me kept thinking, 'I didn't ask for this responsibility. Why do I have to be the one to fix this? Why can't someone else do it?'…is that selfish of me?"_

" _Not at all, Mavis. You were scared. You barely knew what was going on and you felt you lacked control over the situation, right?"_

" _Yeah…"_

" _It isn't wrong to want help, Mavis."_

"…"

" _What did you find when you left the pantry?"_

" _At first, nothing," Mavis replied, "The place was deserted. It was…eerie. Everything was so quiet and still. Even the bugs were gone. Not knowing where they were was just as bad as having them chasing us. And there were these…tracks in the grass."_

" _Tracks?"_

" _They had sealed people in these pod-like things," she shuddered audibly in disgust, "the pods looked like insect shells; bug-like… just like those creatures."_

" _I see."_

" _Some of the colonists were still awake in those pods when I found them," Mavis said, "One of them was looking at me. Then they just…fell asleep or something. I think the pods did that to them."_

" _So like stasis pods?" Kelly asked._

" _I don't know…maybe?" Mavis said in frustration, "I don't really know what they were. Those things just used them to carry people away."_

" _Those beings are called Collectors," Kelly clarified._

" _Collectors?" Mavis asked._

" _They're not like other aliens," Kelly said, "To be honest, most people think they're just myths or stories."_

" _Well they seemed real enough to me… a living nightmare…"_

" _You didn't see them when the swarms first came out?"_

" _No, they came after. After everyone was paralyzed or in the safe house. But I…I think I saw what brought them…"_

" _You think you did?"_

" _Yeah," Mavis sounded confused, like she wasn't even sure her own words could be trusted, "When Mikhail's mom—when Katiana ran into the swarm, we had been running to the safe house with a bunch of other people. We were sort of following them when…something shot overhead and uprooted some trees, right in our path."_

" _What was it?" Kelly's soothing professionalism wasn't enough to keep the intrigue out of her voice._

" _I-I'm not really sure. It might have been a ship, I guess? It was flying. I hadn't been looking up when it happened. There wasn't any time, it had moved so fast and the next thing I knew there was screaming and leaves and tree bark flying everywhere and everyone ducked. The ground was shaking and there was like this big invisible force that nearly knocked everyone over like a huge gust of wind or something and then trees just ripped right out of the ground at the roots. I don't even think the thing actually touched them. It was like…the force of it shooting by was enough to pull them clean out of the dirt."_

" _Think back carefully; is there anything at all you can recall about that moment when it passed over you," Kelly pressed._

" _I'm not sure…"_

" _Close your eye; try and picture it. That moment before the trees fell, did you get a good look at what made them fall?"_

" _I…well it was big. Massive even. It was more the shadow of it that I saw more than anything else. I'm pretty sure it was a ship when I think about it now. It was black…maybe…maybe brown…gray? The shadow had this funny shape to it, like maybe there were things sticking off of it. That-that's all I can remember about it. Then the swarms came back and everyone was screaming again…"_

" _What you told me was enough, Mavis, thank you for trying. You did a great job."_

"…"

" _What is it Mavis?"_

"… _the swarms came first…then that ship came down low like that…and-and then those things came out…I didn't see a single one of them when we were running. No one mentioned them; all anyone could talk about was the bugs. I was in the pantry for a few hours, I think…and then those things were there…the collectors; just hauling all those people away. They only came down after people were paralyzed or hiding…"_

" _Mavis?"_

" _Why…why would they wait? They-they had guns a-and those blue glowing creatures. They could fight…they fought me. They caught me and when their nails sunk in…it hurt so bad…" her words ended in a choked off sob._

" _Mavis? Mavis! Deep breaths…just take deep breaths. Hold my hand. Calm down; you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you now. Just take some deep breaths. Do you want me to get Dr. Chakwas?"_

" _No…no, I-I'm fine. It's just…there's so many thoughts running around in my head right now."_

" _I only have a few more questions. Then you can take a nice, well deserved rest, okay? Do you feel comfortable enough to continue?"_

" _Y-yeah. I think so."_

" _Now I know this is difficult for you," Kelly said softly, "But tell me about the Collectors."_

_Mavis inhaled sharply._

" _Whenever you're ready," Kelly added patiently._

" _I tried not to follow the tracks. I hadn't seen what made them yet, and I didn't want to. I thought maybe I could find the safe house myself if I kept going the direction everyone else had been heading. For awhile everything was okay. Mikhail was falling asleep in my arms and everything was so quiet and…then I rounded a corner and saw the pods." She took deep shuddering breaths._

" _That's it, just breath, Mavis," Kelly encouraged, "You're safe here. You're no longer on the colony."_

" _I…I knew I should have looked at the pods. I-I didn't want to. Oh god, I didn't want to, but my feet were moving before I realized it and…I looked anyway. And there was this man just staring back up at me. He looked as scared as I was. And then Mikhail starting crying and," her voice was cracking, "a-and then those things came around the corner and I hid. They were awful. All hard shells and insect bodies. Those…those creepy limbs…and I couldn't see a mouth on them. But they were talking, I think…this clicking weird noise, back and forth but like…all at the same time and then they started dragging everyone away and I kept thinking 'what if they do that to us?' They started walking away a-and I thought we were safe. But then one of them saw me!"_

" _What did you do then?"_

" _I just wanted to stay still and hide until they went away; just close my eyes and pretend I wasn't there. But then it turned and saw me and its glowing yellow eyes landed on me and I—I panicked…I just ran…"_

" _Mavis…"_

" _Next thing I knew they were shooting at me and those blue things came running out of nowhere and everything was so loud. They were all screaming at me and Mikhail was screaming and I was screaming and they kept catching up to me. I had to…I had to drill a hole in one of their skulls just so it wouldn't get me and there-there was this blood or something just everywhere! It didn't look like blood but it came out of its skull like blood would. And then-and then the swarms came after us again and I tried burning them away but then one of them got Mikhail! And I couldn't stop it! One of those blue zombie things was on me and it pinned me down, trying to claw at my face and eyes and I was just screaming. I bashed its head in…," her voice rose in pitch, becoming more hysterical, "oh god I did! I bashed it until it was one big mess. And then I just picked up Mikhail and ran, and I kept running and running and my ankle hurt so bad and I was bleeding and I just kept running, but I couldn't get away. So I started that fire…what the fuck was I thinking?! That was so stupid! But they kept coming so I grabbed that hammer thing from my bag and started hitting them. And hitting and hitting and hitting! And they were bleeding everywhere. And then there wasn't anything and I thought we were good…I thought we were okay. B-but the fire got bigger and I couldn't stop it and it almost got Mikhail. But it got me instead! It hurt so much! I-I couldn't breathe and I just wanted it to stop. I just kept crying and crying and screaming and things were getting all hazy and I just wanted the pain to stop and I…I…" she broke out into a fresh wave of wracking sobs and said no more._

" _Shh…shh," Kelly cooed, "it's okay. I'm here. I'm here…everything's going to be alright…"_

* * *

 

"EDI," Shepard commanded, "turn off the transmission. We've heard enough."

"Yes Shepard," the audio cut out abruptly, leaving the scarred woman in the med bay to her privacy.

**_  
_**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did research on Declarative and Non-Declarative memory and the effect amnesia has on both, so I hope what I wrote makes sense.  
> As for the omni tool being used as a temporary translator of alien languages, when I went looking for information on the way communication between alien races works in the Mass Effect universe, various sites explained that the Omni tools more general functions outside of military use included video, audio and holographic communication, which makes it seem plausible to me that it can be used for understanding other languages, so I tweaked it a bit to make it work here. As it is, the explanation I found in the Mass Effect wiki for communication between races was that translators can come in the form of PDAs, devices in clothing and accessories and implants, so the Omni-tool seemed to fit in with this explanation. While it also stated that it is practical for children to grow up taking some form of basic alien language courses and I would assume someone like Shepard would, it would also make sense to me for some as well prepared as Shepard to carry a translator device on her in case she encounters a language barrier outside her experience in communication. So I hope my use of the translator concept in this chapter was acceptable
> 
> I'm also trying to be fair in the opinions of characters in regards to other characters. I am not Miranda's biggest fan, but I do try to see things from her perspective for the sake of fairness. Still, my Shepard is a strong willed and at times bossy person who likes to have control of the situation and doesn't like having the reigns taken from her. I did my best in demonstrating that while avoiding being too biased harsh on Miranda. I hope I accomplished that.
> 
> Read and review please! Once again please feel free to give me feedback.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, yada yada yada, you know this disclaimer from the beginning of my previous chapters.
> 
> I don't have anyone proofreading this for me so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me.

* * *

After the comm link cut out no one said a word. The tension in the air weighed down on them silent, the oppressive force of it near suffocating. Mavis's words washed over them leaving behind a thick layer of guilt so blanket-like in its near tangibility that it was enough to make them want to take a shower and wash it away.

Miranda shifted uncomfortably, suddenly listening in on Mavis's counseling session didn't seem appropriate. Her second thoughts on the matter were a little late on the uptake, though. There wasn't much she could do now that they had already went ahead and done it, but that didn't chase away the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she refused to identify as guilt. She met Shepard's gaze head on when she looked up, everything she did was for a reason, it would help people in the long run and she couldn't afford having the commander or anyone else exploit the slightest bit of doubt in her.

"It would seem that Mavis's account of the attack matches that of the abductions on Freedom's Progress," she said, pulling up some information on her omni tool, "the data acquired on that colony matches much of what she witnessed on Horizon."

Shepard nodded, "the footage Veetor gave us," she affirmed. The information the shaken Quarian had given them had certainly been nothing short of invaluable to them. Without it they would not have known of the seeker swarms paralysis and they never would have sought out Mordin's help in counteracting it.

Shepard was glad she had handed him over to Tali instead of letting Cerberus take him. After all the kid had been through he deserved the peace of mind of being with people he could trust and Shepard knew that Miranda's polite cordiality towards non humans wasn't a sentiment that would be shared by every Cerberus operative. It would be foolhardy to trust them to question Veetor running the risk of it turning into an outright interrogation.

"The attacks are nearly identical by the looks of it," Jacob stated, "The only thing that changed between this attack and the previous ones is the state the colony was in when we arrived. Freedom's Progress had little to no signs of a struggle."

Shepard shrugged, "The Alliance deployed Kaidan to help with installing defense towers; that's something the other colonies didn't have. Considering they were expecting possible attacks at that point they might have been given more time to try and escape. And the colonists may not have been too thrilled to have the Alliance's involvement, but I imagine having those towers gave some of them the courage to put up a bit of a fight this time around."

"So it's pretty safe to assume this is the normal routine for the Collectors," Garrus said, "This is most likely the process they followed at the other colonies too; the seeker swarms are the first wave."

"And they only pursue humans;" Miranda pointed out, "Going by the little security footage we did manage to recover from Horizon, no animals were targeted."

"And the swarms never sought out Veetor, like they did with the colonists on Freedom's Progress," Shepard said, "It might not of been his environment suit that protected him after all. Their goal was specifically humans. And they knew exactly where to find most of them too."

"So that must be their basic function," Jacob suggested, "invade the colony, target all humans until there are no more available in the vicinity and then their job is over."

"And they do it all before the Collectors' ship even lands," Garrus said.

"Meant to stop resistance before it begins," Mordin surmised, the Salarian having been contemplatively quiet through most of the meeting, regarding the overall situation with his strange combination of disinterest and fascination. Shepard still didn't know how he managed to pull off both expressions at once. "The Collectors not…partial to direct combat, perhaps? Lack of confrontation is…preferential? "

"I definitely felt like I was facing more husks than Collectors down there," Garrus mused.

Jacob nodded, "and there were no husks found in the footage or data from that Quarian. When there wasn't anyone to fight them they didn't bring out the reinforcements. If that is the case, they might not have tried to take Mavis and Mikhail because they failed to immobilize them during the initial wave of seeker swarms. They probably had them pegged for a liability and figured it would be easier to kill them rather than subdue them."

"Mavis said something about them communicating in synchronized speech," Miranda stated, "It sounds like they operate on some sort of hive-mind mentality. That would imply they are used to working as a whole rather than as individuals. If that is true, fighting would probably be a last resort for them. They proved they have the firepower to fight, but they didn't use it until we showed up."

"And the plague they had the Vorcha unleash on Omega infected everyone but humans," Shepard said, "If the seeker swarms really are made to only target humans, the Collectors probably wanted to clear out the other races out before sending in the swarms in order to avoid as much conflict and resistance as possible. We saw the footage," she reminded her team, "and we heard Mavis's story; they gathered up the colonists in those pods."

"It's almost like the Collectors were _collecting_ them or something." the grin in Joker's voice could clearly be heard through the comm link from the pilot's chair.

This time Shepard did mute him.

"Moving on," Miranda rolled her eyes, "the Collects were gathering the humans; they didn't come to fight them like they did us."

"Wanted to collect as many live subjects as possible," Mordin theorized, "They had no interest in casualties. Being prepared for combat was only precaution…a defense should they be confronted."

"Even then they relied heavily on the husks and those other creatures," Garrus said.

"And they relied on that engineered plague to take out the alien majority inhabiting Omega," Shepard added, "They're made that plague specifically to leave only the humans alive; aside from the Vorcha who seemed to have cooperated with them for the sole purpose of gaining territory lost by those who died or they picked off themselves."

"Things still aren't adding up," Miranda said, scrolling through the information on her omni-tool, "The Collectors got their name for collecting tech and individuals; that much is nothing new. But from what knowledge I've gathered on them in the past, they focused on specific or even uncommon traits in only a handful of subjects. Batarian twins, left handed Salarians, they singled out what they wanted from a race. But this time…they have no discernible focus. Any and all humans are taken regardless of who they are or what traits and features they may have, from men and women to children, farmers to colonist government officials, sick or healthy. Why?"

She leaned onto the comm link table and ran a hand through her hair, staring at the table like it would somehow give her the answers she sought. "What is it they hope to gain? What goal do they have that would cause them deviant from their previous preferences? Not only do they not discriminate in the humans they take, but they objective seemed to be to take only live humans. What do they gain from this? More importantly, what do the Reapers intend to accomplish from this if the Collectors are working form them?"

"That is a good question," Shepard agreed, "The Reapers goal is to wipe out whole cycles, right? It makes little sense that they would take humans alive rather than kill them off when the opportunity presents itself. What are they up to?"

She looked around at her teammates, but no answers were forthcoming. Miranda returned to glaring at her omni-tool, a deep frown settled over her features as she scrolled through files.

A glance at Mordin showed the professor deep in thought. In his own little world, he stood with his head tipped back slightly, a hand at his chin as he stared at the ceiling, his mind going at a mile a minute. Shepard had no doubt he would have some theories of his own on the matter before the day came to a close. For now she would leave him to his thoughts.

"Shepard," E.D.I. said, interrupting Shepard's own train of thought, "Mr. Moreau is requesting to speak to you. Shall I take him off mute?"

"Go ahead," Shepard sighed.

" _Finally_!" Joker groaned, "You could have warned me before you turned off the volume. You know I was talking for a full five minutes before E.D.I. bothered to tell me you couldn't hear me?"

"And you'll be talking to yourself again if you don't tell me what it is you had to say to me in the next five seconds," Shepard said exasperatedly, "we're rather busy at the moment."

"Okay, okay, no needed to get testy. You're actually going to want to hear this."

"Let me hear it, Joker."

"Okay, so you know that ship Mavis talked about?" Joker asked, "It sounds a lot like that ship that took out the Normandy."

"Yes, I think it is a safe to bet to say that it was a Collector ship that attacked us two years ago," Shepard said.

"And Reapers aren't exactly your biggest fans," Joker pointed out, "They probably sent the Collectors to take care of you. And the Collectors didn't bring out the heavy artillery on any other colony they attacked. Stay with me here, but what if the reason for that was because it wasn't that they didn't bring out the husks before then, but rather they didn't even _bring_ the husks with them at all before Horizon?"

Shepard cocked an eyebrow, "Why would they do that?" she asked.

"Think about it; the first attacks on the colonies started before you were fully revived. You weren't around to stop them and the seeker swarms took care of pretty much any defense on the colonies. So there wouldn't be much use for the husks and those other freaky things. I'm thinking the only reason they brought them this time around was because you were alive and they were expecting you. You're the only threat they would see as worth preparing for."

Shepard's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "That's actually a very good point, Joker," she said, "I'm impressed."

"Hey, this head isn't just for looking pretty, Commander," quipped, "There's a big, beautiful brain behind this handsome mug."

Garrus and Jacob snorted a laugh.

"Good thing he's so modest," Garrus said.

"Yeah," Jacob agreed, "it would be a shame if he got a big head and couldn't wear that hat he loves so much."

"I heard that!"

"Thank you for your input, Mr. Moreau," Miranda said, the professionalism in her tone putting a stop to any banter that may have arisen, "We'll keep what you said in mind."

"Yeah, you did good Joker," Shepard added, "you brought up some good points."

"I do my best, Commander," the pride in his voice over the compliment could be heard loud and clear over the comm link, "Just reminding you that you'd be lost without me. Handsome, a fantastic pilot, and a critical thinker; I'd say I'm a triple threat. I didn't hear E.D.I. offering any helpful suggestions here."

"I assure you, Mr. Moreau," E.D.I. interrupted, "that I am fully aware of the points you made and had calculated similar conclusions based on the compiled data of the destruction of the previous Normandy under Shepard's command and the similarities between the attacking vessel and the one Mavis had described. However, given how threatened you are by my presence, your desire to prove your usefulness has led me to find it beneficial to your morale that you share your views on the matter at hand."

" _Hey!"_

Shepard sighed. "Try to get along you two," she said, muting what was most likely going to be a one sided argument on the bridge.

"Let's move on," Miranda said, changing the subject, "there is still the matter of the civilians we're transporting. As you are all well aware, no proper identification of Mavis has been made yet."

Jacob nodded, "So far there isn't anything on file of her in the colony's database or travel charter. None of the survivors on Horizon knew of anyone by her name that wasn't already accounted for or confirmed missing. The only people by the name Mavis that they informed us of abducted or not, their descriptions didn't match her appearance. We'll be turning her and Mikhail over to C-Sec upon arrival. They should have the necessary scans that have a higher chance of identifying her through a DNA match."

"There are some matters I feel we should discuss concerning Mavis," Miranda stated. She brought up a file on her Omni tool. "We need to affirm whether or not releasing Mavis to C-Sec is the best course of action given the circumstances."

"And what circumstances would that be?" Zaeed asked, bored. The mercenary stood leaning against the wall, as removed from the meeting as he physically could be. The nature of these briefings didn't really concern him in his opinion; he needed little more than Shepard telling him who he could shoot in order to get the job done regardless of where they were. The paperwork and meetings held little interest for him.

He had been ready for this meeting to come to a close, but now the current topic had his attention piqued somewhat. Their guest in the med bay had provided some decent entertainment with how she had managed to get Cerberus operatives running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The fact that one woman, an _injured_ woman too drugged up and out to even find her own feet had been too much for them to handle was amusing to no end.

Cerberus really needed to step their game up if they couldn't handle even one woman. If she had gone against Zaeed he would have had her strapped back to the gurney in five seconds flat. He would have saved them a lot of trouble if he had gotten involved during her struggle earlier, but of course it was far more fun to watch them try and handle it.

Miranda examined her Omni-tool. "Mavis not only lacks any records to be found on her identity, birthplace or citizenship," she told Zaeed, "but she also lacks any familiarity with Aliens races. She cannot remember who she is or how she came to be on Horizon and her lack of proper vaccinations leads us to believe she did not come to the colony under normal circumstances, possibly not even legal circumstances."

"She didn't have a translator on her when we found her," Shepard added, "Implant or otherwise." She leveled a disapproving glare in Miranda's direction, "though someone decided to remedy that themselves."

Miranda met Shepard's gaze. "I am aware you may feel I overstepped my boundaries, Shepard…"

"No shit."

"But you cannot deny that it is in our best interests that Mavis be capable of communicating properly with other races if she is to be residing in the Citadel. Her interactions with certain members of our crew will benefit from the implant as well."

"Then you can tell her what you did," Shepard said.

Miranda nodded, "That's fair. Now, to get back to the matter at hand, medical examinations of Mavis have brought up several concerning points." She flicked through another file on her Omni-tool before transferring it to the others for them to see. "Dr. Chakwas only allowed me access to a select bit of information," she ignored Shepard's grin, the commander proud of the doctor putting her foot down in defense of her principles, "but the information she did give me provided some unusual results."

"Unusual how?" Garrus asked.

Mordin took over the conversation. "Scans and readings peculiar," he said, having been present for the majority if not all of Mavis's treatment prior to her regaining consciousness, "body's immune system weak, less resistant to airborne infection. Lack of vaccinations a contributor to the cause but main cause a lack of genetic enhancement."

Shepard cocked her head, "Meaning?"

"Mavis never underwent any of the standard medical enhancements humans undergo during fetal development," Miranda explained, "humans have benefited immensely from it over the years; without them our immune systems and overall biology probably wouldn't be fair nearly as well with the extraterrestrial exposure we subject ourselves to. In this day and age, such treatment is practically non-negotiable in medical practices, its insisted upon in pregnancies. But Mavis was born without any such enhancements performed prior to birth. Not a single one."

Shepard spared a glance at Garrus, their earlier conversation with Dr. Chakwas coming to mind, "that's not normal."

"It shouldn't even be possible," Miranda stated, "Genetically she is weaker than most humans in regards to her immune system."

"Could prove problematic," Mordin observed, "A regular dose of antibiotics or immune-boosters could help lower risks of frequent illness. Will have to look into it. Never encountered a human with body biology so primitive. Observation could prove….interesting."

"Don't go breaking out your research notes just yet, Mordin," Shepard told the Salarian, "Given Mavis current disposition towards Aliens, she'd most likely beat you with her bedpan if you tried examining her right now."

"Shepard," Miranda interrupted, "There's something else we should discuss," she transferred another file from her Omni-tool, "As Dr. Chakwas notes report, and as Mavis stated herself, she was injured long before the husks attacked her. She claims to have woken up with several injuries and according to the examination, those injuries were several hours old by the time she was brought into the med bay, while the injuries she can actually recall were sustained only mere minutes prior to being rescued. Based on the examinations, our estimate of the time she sustained the injuries places the time she received them to be just moments before she woke up. No one we spoke to on the colony saw her receive those injuries, just as no one saw her prior to her waking up in that lot."

"So what happened to her?" Shepard asked.

"That's what I would like to figure out. You can understand why I find her current state problematic. There's no record of her, or of her arrival on Horizon. As you informed me before this meeting, she has no familiarity with our technology or Alien life and she has never received standard medical treatment. Essentially she dropped out of nowhere onto the colony having already undergone an ordeal."

"Do you think it is possible someone left her there?" Jacob asked.

"It is possible, I suppose," Miranda said, "but the question then would be why? And for that matter, who?"

"Whoever it was, it's starting to sound like they gave her a beating and then just left her for dead," Garrus said, disdain clear in his voice. The idea that someone could be so cruel to a defenseless person was unsettling to say the least.

"Well whoever this girl is, I give her credit for surviving a Collector attack without a gun," Zaeed sneered, "She made a mess of herself of course, but she did it with one heck of a performance by the sounds of it. It was pure dumb luck she didn't die out there, but she did it with style."

"If you call setting herself on fire style," Garrus pointed out.

The merc shrugged, "I've been through worse."

"Can we try and stay focused here?" Jacob asked, "Doesn't anyone find it suspicious that Mavis conveniently showed up on a colony targeted by the Collectors on the day it was attacked by them?"

Miranda clicked her tongue, "at least someone is on the same page as me."

Shepard regarded the two curiously. "What are you two getting at?" she asked.

"Mavis appears out of nowhere with no record of who she is on the same day the Collectors showed up…" Jacob repeated. He glanced at Miranda, unsure how to proceed.

Shepard made an encouraging gesture with her hand, a silent 'go on'.

Jacob looked at Shepard, concern bleeding through the seriousness of his gaze, "What if it was the Collectors that left her there?"

Jacob held Shepard's gaze as he allowed everyone a moment to consider his words.

Zaeed made a noise in the back of his throat, shifted his weight against the wall, an eyebrow cocked in thinly veiled interest.

Mordin's eyes flew up the ceiling, his mind a flurry of activity as he pondered such an intriguing question.

Miranda stood there in silence, awaiting a reaction from the commander.

Garrus and Shepard exchanged a worried glance, the thought not occurring to them. They hadn't entertained the thought of Mavis being anything other than a victim in this whole mess. After everything she had been through down on the colony, it seemed highly unlikely that she would be a threat. But Jacob had a point, it was strange that she would appear on the same day the Collectors did and they couldn't find anything on her to indicate who she was.

"What are you suggesting?" Shepard asked.

"You think Mavis was planted there as a move by the Collectors?" Garrus inquired skeptically. He could understand Jacob wanting to be cautious of their guest, but he had a hard time picturing the scared, hysterical woman in the med bay to be in league with the Collectors. The fear in her eyes when she saw him had been real, of that he was sure. If she couldn't handle the sight of a Turian, then it was doubtful she would willingly be anywhere near the Collectors. "From her session with Kelly it sounded like that was her first time seeing the Collectors. She was terrified of them."

"She could have been faking," Jacob pointed out.

Garrus crossed his arms. "I don't think she was," he disagreed, "I could hear it in her voice, that terror was real. She was repulsed by them."

He turned to Miranda, "you weren't there in the Med Bay," he said to her, "When she looked at me it was like she was looking at a monster. I was terrifying to her, she honestly feared me. How could someone like that work for the Collectors? I've seen a lot of strange and horrific things in my life, but even I can say the Collectors and those creatures of theirs are the makings of nightmares."

"What if she isn't what she seems?" Miranda suggested, "The Collectors created the seeker swarms and the husks and scions. Would it be so hard to believe that they created Mavis? She could have been released for the first time on that colony, no prior face to face interaction with the Collectors."

Mordin hummed, shaking his head. "Mavis's body structure is human," he said, "no indications of generic alteration or inorganic material. Human with all natural limitations. Weaker than most human's in fact."

Shepard nodded, "Mordin's right. If the Collectors made her they did a shitty job of it. She'd pose no real threat to us as a fighter. It seems unlikely they'd waste resources on making her with those disadvantages."

"Well then let's considered the possibility that she is lying about what she knows about the Collectors," Jacob said, "The Collectors have traded for humans and other aliens in the past. What if she was one of them? They could have conditioned her to work for them and then placed her on the colony."

"And they what? Beat her up first just for kicks?" Shepard asked, "And anyway, what would they accomplish by using her? A mole for information? She barely knows how to keep herself alive, not exactly a reliable source for them if she can't properly protect herself. If anything, she was a hindrance to them during the attack. She killed some of their husks and prevented them from taking one of the colonists. She saved Mikhail from them."

"That's right, they turned their guns on her when they discovered her," Garrus added, "It's doubtful they would turn against her if she was with them. And why would they use someone with no memory? Wouldn't they want someone who could blend in better? Someone with an alibi or convincing back story would raise less suspicion than someone without any information to provide on themselves."

"But the sympathy angle her amnesia provides could be intended to earn people's trust and get them to let their guard down," Jacob argue.

"Chakwas said her condition was genuine—,"

"What if that was their doing? She could be a sleeper agent, completely unaware of her purpose until they activate her—,"

"Now hang on here," Shepard cut in sharply, "let's ease up on the theories here for a minute. We still don't have all the facts or even enough intel on Mavis to draw any conclusions just yet. Until then, this is all speculation."

"Shepard's right," Miranda agreed, "I only brought this up on an advisory note. I just wanted to point out that we don't know anything about Mavis yet and we would be wise to proceed with caution for now. That is not to say she isn't really just a victim of circumstance here; in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would like to observe Mavis more before we make any decisions. While she is on this ship, she is to be monitored. If any of you see or hear anything noteworthy, report to me or Commander Shepard. We'll decide what to do after that."

"Sounds good," Shepard said, "Everybody clear on that?"

"Yes Commander," Jacob saluted.

"Right, Shepard," Garrus agreed.

Mordin nodded understandingly.

Zaeed snorted and jerked his head in a semblance of a nod. "You can play babysitter if you want," he said, "You know where to find me if you need me." With nothing more left to say, he headed for the door.

Shepard rolled her eyes, "Dismissed, everyone," she said loudly as the rest of her team began filing out. She could just imagine the smirk Zaeed was probably wearing. The guy sure was cocky. It was for the best she supposed. Zaeed personality wasn't one she thought was best to have around an impressionable child like Mikhail and if would be better if they didn't meet.

The same went for Jack, who she would probably need to at least pop in on to fill her in on what they had discussed; the reclusive convict having opted to not be a part of the meeting, wanting to be as far from Miranda as possible.

Miranda lingered behind the rest of the team, double checking her files. Shepard had no doubt the woman would be staying to contact the Illusive Man, her unshakeable loyalty to the man who kept her out of the clutches of her father keeping her firmly under her bosses thumb and at the ready to update him on the slightest bit of progress while working on the Normandy.

Shepard gave Miranda a curt nod in passing as she left the communications room. She may not always agree with the Cerberus operative, but she had to hand it to her; the woman was certainly dedicated to her job. If only her loyalties lied with a less questionable organization Shepard might have been able to trust her better, maybe even befriend her. They probably would have been fast friends under different circumstances.

That thought gave her pause.

"Commander?"

She distractedly waved off Kelly's greeting as she passed her console on the Command deck, giving the amiable Yeoman a reassuring smile. "We'll talk later, Kelly," she assured her. Stepping onto the elevator, her smile slid off her face as soon as the doors closed.

_Friends._

The word alone brought forth an array of feelings from within her. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't entirely happy either. It was…complicated. She had had such fond memories of her friends, of the old Normandy. Memories she wouldn't trade for the world, but thinking of them now brought with it an unsettling hollowness where there used to be such mirth inside her. Her memories now were so bittersweet. During her youth, her father had once said that nostalgia was like eating a frozen jalapeno; it brings tears to your eyes while it burns in your throat and settles like ice in your stomach. The mixture of joy and loss she felt now at knowing her memories of her time on the old Normandy were times she could never get back certainly fit the bill on that analogy.

Stepping off the elevator and into her room, she leaned against the door, her mind worlds away, lost in past adventures. She stared at the empty tanks of water lining the walls. 'Maybe I should get some fish,' she thought. At least then the place would feel less empty. Maybe even a hamster or a gerbil would be better companionship than sitting up here alone.

She missed her crew, her friends. She missed Tali. What she wouldn't give to have been able to convince the Quarian to have joined them when she last saw her. Instead she had been too taken aback by the betrayal she heard in her friend's voice to express just how much she needed her by her side.

She missed Kaidan. She hadn't been too successful at convincing him to join her either. She saw how his eyes dimmed when he realized she was with Cerberus and her protest had done little to ease his mind. To walk away from the Alliance was to turn her back on him as far as he was concerned. Yet another friend who saw her return just as much as betrayal as it was a miracle.

Would Wrex see it that way too? Despite his gruff nature, trust and loyalty meant a lot more to the Krogan than he let on, the underhandedness of the genophage and his own father's betrayal having dealt a great blow to more than just his pride. How would he take the knowledge that she now worked alongside an organization that cared for the well being of no one but its own race when all alien life stood something to lose against the threat of the Reapers? Would his respect for her be enough to keep his friendship after this development? How many times could she honestly expect someone like him to put his trust in her after he had already been forced to stand down on Virmire as they destroyed the breeding facility, possibly the only chance at a cure for his people? She hadn't given him much choice; if he hadn't stood down then Ashley surely would have—

Ashley…

"Ash…oh god! I—," bile rose up in her throat as a wave of nausea washed over Shepard like she had been punched in the gut. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she stumbled into the bathroom, tripping over her own feet and collapsing forward on her knees in front of the toilet, just short of smacking her head against the bowl. She draped herself over the chilly porcelain and hugged the bowl reverently as she willed the contents of her stomach to settle.

She didn't know how long she stayed that way, her chest heaving and her throat burning as she tried to push the image of Ashley's face from her mind. When she finally felt she had pulled herself together, she dragged herself to her feet and lurched towards the sink. Hunched over the sink, she splashed water on her face and stared down her haggard appearance in the mirror.

It was hard to think about Ashley. She had still been in a daze when Miranda had asked her about Virmire when they were in the shuttle, but now having been left to her thoughts, it was impossible to ignore.

Ashley had died because of her. She hadn't known Ashley as long as Joker or Kaidan, but that didn't make the decision to leave her on Virmire any less painful. Despite her initial annoyance at the soldier's distrust towards Garrus and Wrex or her questioning of the Alliances trust of the Council, Shepard had become close to her. Her stubbornness had helped her wormed her way into Shepard's circle and she hadn't let herself get pushed back out. With her surprising love of poetry and her driven nature in defending her friends and family, Shepard had grown fond of her during the time they spent together, as had Kaidan. Choosing Kaidan over her on Virmire had been one of the hardest decisions of her life. When the time had come, she wanted nothing more than to refuse to accept such a choice. She would have given anything to be able to save them both. But there was nothing she could have done.

In the end she had chosen Kaidan more on impulse than anything. She had never met Ashley's family, had no face to picture grieving to make the guilt more personal, but she had a clear person who came to mind when she thought of Kaidan, someone who she would have been forced to face if he didn't come home alive. The choice was made for her in that one moment but damn it all she wanted to save them _both!_

Ashley must have known that; the resignation and determination in her voice so unyielding as she told Shepard she was ready to die for their mission, to die a hero her family could be proud of. There had been so little time to say goodbye. She didn't even get the chance to see Ashley one last time before the bomb went off. All she had had was a few brief words over a comm link.

Taking a few shaky breaths, Shepard pulled herself together and left the bathroom. Standing before her desk, she let her time with her friends pass before her eyes like glimpses of a home movie. The time Ashley had glued Kaidan's dog tags to a desk at Joker's urging so that he'd fall over when he tried to picked them up in passing, the time Shepard had chase Tali around asking to see inside her helmet, even the time she caught Wrex and Garrus bonding over an exchange of dirty jokes (they had tried to deny it later and didn't exactly appreciate the 'best friend song' she treated them to as they walked away).

She missed them all so much. If she didn't have Garrus and Joker with her now, she didn't know what she'd do. Even Chakwas with her mother hen-like attitude was a welcome sight. Sure the new crewmen around the Normandy seemed nice enough, and Kelly and Jacob were friendly and more than willing to reach out to her, but it wasn't the same as her old crew. Having at least three familiar faces aboard eased her mind slightly.

Of course Joker would never doubt her allegiances to the Alliance and to her friends. As long as he got to be along for the ride, he had full confidence that things would turn out alright in the end.

And Garrus had become close to her in an alarmingly short amount of time once they met. They had been as thick as thieves, the Turian sharing her crass sense of humor and a mutual desire to be the white knight that rushed in to save the day. His faith in her seemed to be unshakable.

Shepard wearily dropped herself into her chair and slumped heavily against the desk, her head propped up by her arms and her fingers buried in her hair. She could feel a headache coming on. Ever since she woke up in the Cerberus lab she had been in constant motion, barely taking any time for herself. The closest she had come to some down time was the drinks she had had with Chakwas after returning from Omega. While it had been nice to relax with a friendly face from her past, it hadn't really been a moment of real reflection so much as her trying to drink away her stress. It didn't help when their conversation had turned to their time with Kaidan and Jenkins. It had caused a churning in her gut that she had a feeling had nothing to do with the amount of liquor she had chugged down.

Two years. She had been dead for two fucking years. So much can change in that time. Her team had fallen apart without her, grown distant and walked out of each other's lives. Had she really been the glue holding them all together?

And what of her family?! Sure they had always known that enlisting in the Alliance came with the risk that she might not come back, but that couldn't have made it any easier for them to hear she had died in the vast void of space, most likely a lifeless corpse floating among the wreckage of her ship. It was Cerberus that recovered her body as far as she knew; the Alliance didn't even find dog tags to bring back as consolation.

Her mind was assaulted by images of her mother relaxing while on shore leave only for the news to come in and her entire world shattering for the first time since she lost her husband. She thought of John coming home from deployment and finding himself standing before an empty casket knowing it didn't contain a single trace of his baby sister inside to feel like he was getting even a scrap of closure. She put them through so much pain and she hadn't even contacted them yet to let them know she was alive. Would they even believe it was her? Or would they accuse her of being an imposter wearing their brave little soldier's face?

Shepard banged her fists against the desk. "I can handle terrorist," she said with a growl, "I can handle smugglers, slavers, and countless waves of husks. I can handle the geth and Saren, but I can't handle this? What's wrong with me?!" She shoved several tablets and files out of her way and propped her elbows up on the surface, her head held in her hands. "What is wrong with me" she asked again. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and hung her head.

Just when she was starting to relax a little, "Shepard."

Shepard jolted back, her head slipping from the hammock of her hands and colliding painfully with the desk, "Son of a bi—," she pushed away from the desk. Her vision swam and she swore the room was spinning. "What is it, EDI?" she groaned mournfully.

"I apologize, Commander," the AI replied, "It was not my intention to startle you. Garrus Valkarian is requesting to speak with you in your quarters."

"Let him in," Shepard sighed, rubbing tenderly at her forehead. The desk wasn't exactly what she would call soft. In fact, she would hazard a guess that Cerberus had spared no expense in using the strongest and sturdiest materials they could find. That being said, greeting her desk via headbutt wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. Massaging her sore brow, she hoped it didn't bruise.

Scowling down at the offending office-wear, Shepard kicked angrily at her desk petulantly, then did it again for good measure, finding satisfaction with the idea of possibly denting it with her boot. The desk shook with the force, sending several worthless knickknacks and books sliding off the edge to rest haphazardly on the floor. A picture frame on the desk wobbled and then fell over face down with a clatter.

Shepard paused in her assault on the desk, her eyes falling on the downturned picture frame. Gingerly picking it up, she turned it over in her hands and ran her fingers across the glass. Immediately the screen flickered to life and a blue skinned smiling face greeted her gaze.

"Liara," Shepard sighed wistfully. The beautiful Asari stared merrily but unseeingly into the distance, her gaze set fondly on something just out of view. Shepard had been the one to take the picture. They had taken a short shore leave in the Citadel after defeating Saren and the geth. Shepard had convinced her to a dance, spinning her as Liara laughed gaily at her claims of unheard music among the din of the bustling streets overlooking the water. Pulling away from Shepard, out of breath, Liara had leaned against the railing and flashed her a radiant smile, her skin glowing in the waning sunlight, _"I wish we could stay like this,"_ she had stated dreamily.

Shepard smiled sadly, "Me too, honey, me too."

Someone cleared their throat behind her, shaking her from her reverie.

Garrus stood just inside the doorway.

"Oh hey," Shepard said, feigning casualness, trying to discreetly toed the fallen objects on the floor under her desk with a sweep of her foot, "how long have you been there?"

"Long enough, Garrus shrugged, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Uh no," Shepard sputtered, fumbling awkwardly with the picture, "No I was just… just taking it easy. Thinking about some things." She tucked the frame behind her back, blindly setting it down on the desk, "Just random stuff, this and that. You know, the usual." She leaned against the desk as nonchalantly as she could muster, "Nothing important."

"Really?" If it was possible for a Turian to cock an eyebrow, Shepard was pretty sure Garrus would be. "Are you sure?" Garrus approached Shepard. Reaching around her, he picked up the hastily hidden frame. "This hardly counts as nothing important," he said, turning it over in his hands and raising it up between them, flashing Liara's face once more at his friend, "In fact, I'd say this means the world to you." He pushed the picture into Shepard's hands and encouragingly closed her fingers around it. "I'd hang on to that if I were you. It really is a lovely photo." He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "It's okay to miss her, Shepard."

"Yeah…" Shepard clutched the frame against her chest.

Garrus smiled sympathetically at her, "You could try contacting her. Miranda said she was somewhere on Illium."

"I…that it is," Shepard shook her head ruefully. "It's complicated," she said after a moment, "It's too soon. Or too late? I don't know; this whole thing is one big mess. I mean what do I say to her?" She stared forlornly down at Liara's tranquil gaze. She ran a hand over the outline of her face as though she could actually reach out and touch the Asari herself. She missed the feeling of her warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips, "What if she's moved on? I left her, Garrus."

"You died," Garrus pointed out.

"Well that might as well be the same thing!" Shepard snapped.

Her hands trembled violently as her fingers clenched tight around the frame hard enough that Garrus worried she might crack the screen. He wondered for a second if she might throw the picture, but she seemed to think better of it, opting instead to place it down on the desk none too gently. She stared down at it for a few moments in silence.

"I died and left her alone," she said after a moment, "She already lost her mother. She gave up her career to follow me around the galaxy on some suicidal…" she gestured helplessly, "escapade! And for what?! For the Citadel to throw all our evidence out the window and for me to get sucked right out of the remains of my ship? I left her behind!" She stared brokenly at Garrus, hands held out in front of her pleadingly, "I left…all of you behind," she whispered.

Garrus reached out and took Shepard's hands into her own, rubbing his thumbs across her skin soothingly, "and you came back."

Shepard gave him a sardonic smile, "Yeah and just in time to possibly get us all blown to hell in another showdown with the Reapers."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Garrus quipped, as Shepard pulled away with a roll of her eyes.

"Pfft, oh sure, and I suppose this is a pretty sweet deal, right?" Shepard snarked as she walked to the other side of the room, "good friends, good food," she tacked off on her fingers, "room and board provided, and a chance to have our faces clawed off by the Collectors demented freak show minions. What's not to like?" She flopped down onto the armchair by her bed, desperately wishing she had thought to pick up a coffee table at Omega, anything really to put her feet up on. "It's like a vacation."

"Don't act like you don't love being back in command."

Shepard huffed, "Yeah, okay you're right. It does feel good to be in charge, to have a purpose again. After fighting Saren, wandering around picking off the remaining geth we could find felt less like a mission and more like a hobby you take up because your parents told you to spend less time in doors and more time outside." She glanced at Garrus from over the arm of the chair she was slumped in, "And now having you and Joker with me again, doing what we do best, it should be like old times again, except…"

"Except it isn't like old times," Garrus supplied.

Shepard nodded, sinking further into her seat, "Yeah, it isn't." She rested her head on the back of the chair, her eyes tracing random patterns on the ceiling, "I don't even have the old team anymore. So much has changed, Garrus."

"I know, Shepard," Garrus said, "But it isn't something that could be helped. That day on the Normandy…"

"That day was what split us all up," Shepard finished, "they just came out of nowhere. I sent you all off to the shuttles ahead of me," she laughed, false and devoid of cheer, "I honestly thought I would be joining you shortly."

Garrus crossed the room in a few short strides and came to stand in front of Shepard. He stared down at her in silence.

When it became clear she wasn't going to meet her gaze, Garrus sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed, leaning forward to rest on his knees.

"Shepard," he began, "Kelly informed me when I arrived that she is available to talk to any of the ship's crew should anyone need it. Have you…" he gestured with his hands expectantly, "…have you thought about taking her up on that offer?"

Shepard's head snapped up with an audible crick of her neck. She stared at Garrus like he had grown a second head. "What for?" she asked defensively. She shook her head, waving a hand in front of her face, "Nevermind. It doesn't matter; I don't need to see Kelly."

"Have you at least considered it?"

"There's no need," Shepard replied flippantly.

"I really think you should," Garrus pressed.

"Well your wrong," Shepard threw back, sitting up straighter, "I have no reason to go to her."

"I'm sure plenty of the crew goes to her," Garrus stated, "Mavis and Mikhail will be."

"That's different," Shepard denied, "they've been through a lot."

"So have you."

"The answer is no, Garrus."

"Shepard," Garrus said, bordering on pleading, "You'll feel better if you talk about this—,"

Shepard slammed her fists on the armrests. "There's nothing to talk about!" she insisted vehemently. She looked at Garrus with such a betrayal in her eyes that you would think he had drawn a gun on her. "I'm fine. I knew there would be some problems when I first enrolled in the Alliance Navy. I'm a solider; causalities are likely, injuries are all but guaranteed. We're trained to expect the worse and we are expected to be able to handle it. I didn't get where I am today because I couldn't take the heat; I got here because I knew what I was getting into and I was prepared to roll with the punches as they came."

"Shepard…"

"No! I've dealt with worse and this time is no different."

" _You died!"_ Garrus growled, rapidly losing his temper.

At his outburst, Shepard clammed up immediately, eyes transfixed on her friend in shock as his words hung in the hollow quiet.

"You died," Garrus ventured on, "and you've made it pretty clear that it bothers you. I can tell just listening to you go on like this, so don't try and tell me you're okay."

"It's not my death that bothers me!" Shepard insisted adamantly. It was hard to say if she was trying to convince him or herself. "It's everything else that happened because I died." She wrapped her arms around herself, "It's just…this isn't how I thought things would turn out, you know? You guys all took off and when I woke up I wanted nothing more than to find everyone."

"I may not have been aware of time while I was dead—heck there wasn't much of left of me to experience anything I imagine—but when I woke up in that lab, and when I finally saw Tali and you and Kaidan…it felt like a lifetime had passed since I had last seen you."

Garrus nodded sympathetically.

"And then you were the only one who didn't hold it against me," Shepard continued, "Aside from Joker that is, the others acted like I turned my back on them for working with Cerberus. I mean, you'd think they believed it better I didn't come back at all."

"You know that's not true," Garrus reasoned.

"A-and it's so ridiculous," Shepard laughed, ignoring him, "to even think I'd even turn my back on them. When the Normandy was hit all I could think of was getting you all out okay. I practically had to throw Liara towards the shuttles just to get her to leave. I literally dragged Joker's ass out of his chair; he actually thought he was going down with the ship, as though he could save her if he held on long enough!"

Garrus reached out to grab Shepard's hand, but she leaned away from him.

"I'm always thinking of you, of them. I could never turn my back on my crew, on my team. You know what I was planning to do when we were finished with the geth?" Shepard hefted herself out of her chair and wandered towards the fish tank. "I was going to go to Eden Prime. Ashley's family lives there. I wanted to see them. Get to know them, tell them that they would be proud to have seen what a soldier she was. Tell them…" she drew in a breath, "That I'm sorry…"

"Shepard..."Garrus began.

"But then that ship came…we weren't expecting an attack, not like that one. And everything went to hell so quickly."

Garrus stood and approached Shepard slowly, just listening.

"I've seen the records," Shepard went on, mind racing, her thoughts all over the place, "Miranda showed me. Over twenty casualties. I know that isn't a lot as far as things go in the military, but damn it they were my crew; I trained with them, I _knew_ them. Their deaths are on my hands. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to anyone, living or dead. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Liara…I just screamed at her until she would leave. I was worried what could happen if she stayed."

Shepard turned towards Garrus, backlit by the pale blue of the aquarium, her eyes glassy. "You know…when I went to get Joker, it felt like everything was going in slow motion. When I entered the CIC, I looked up and I could see…just the most beautiful view of the moon."

"It was so big…Like I could just reach out and touch it." She waved a hand through the air, tracing the shape of that glowing orb as it appeared in her mind's eye. "I couldn't understand why I had never noticed how beautiful it was before. And then it dawned on me—I realized…that I was looking at it clear through the remains of my ship. It was just…gutted, just craved out. That was _my ship_ , I earned that ship.

She took a shuddering breath, "And next thing I knew it was being torn away from me like everything else and suddenly I'm floating out in nothing and all I could see was my ship and the moon as I spun round and around as if got farther away from me." She closed her eyes; she would not cry now, "I don't know how long I fought for air before everything just…stopped. My chest hurt, I couldn't see anymore and my limbs got heavy and then…there was nothing and I—,"

"Reina," Garrus said softly.

Garrus wrapped his arms around Shepard, drawing her into an embrace. She struggled half-heartedly before leaning into his touch. A gentle hand cupped her chin delicately, forcing her to look him in the eyes. Garrus gazed down at Shepard with soft endearment, like a parent come to chase away their child's nightmares. He ran his hand over her cheek gently. Why did his friend have to torment herself like this? "Reina…"

Shepard brought a hand up to cover his and leaned into his touch, greedily taking in this little gift of comfort.

"I don't need therapy," she stated shakily, "I'm not weak…"

"I know you aren't," it pained Garrus to see Shepard like this; so lost and shamed by her own high standards of strength. Like many soldiers before her, she had spent so much of her life trying to deny the frailty essential to what made her human by masking it behind years of training and numerous medals and achievements. In her eyes, to falter was to fail and simply acknowledging her remorse and lingering trauma was probably cowardly to her.

"Not for single second have I ever thought you were weak Shepard," Garrus told her, "and nothing will make me think it now." He couldn't let Shepard's survivor's guilt get to her. "Admitting you are troubled isn't going to take away from who you are or make you any less of the strong woman and friend that everyone knows you are."

He held up and hand when Shepard opened her mouth to protest, "Shepard…Reina, there's nothing wrong with feeling overwhelmed. You shouldn't have to go through this alone. If you won't talk with Kelly then at least talk to me. Part of being a brave is knowing when to admit you need help and trusting those who have put their trust in you."

Shepard shook him off with a wave of her hands. "I can't do that, Garrus," she said, stepping away from him, "I'm not supposed to need help. I'm the leader; it's my job to help everybody else. If I can't handle it when things get rough, how am I supposed to expect my crew to be able to?"

Garrus bit back a sigh, "No one expects you to be unshakeable though. If you were I doubt anyone would feel they could turn to you at all, they wouldn't expect you to understand how they feel. Everyone breaks down sometimes; no one is going to think less of you for it." He grabbed her arms and looked her square in the eye. "Take Kelly up on her offer or start coming to me. Please."

"I can handle this on my own—," Shepard was interrupting by a beeping from the other side of the room. Batting Garrus away, she made her way to her desk.

"Shepard," Garrus chided, 'We're not done here."

"I have a call," Shepard hissed evasively, "It could be important."

Ignoring Garrus' frown—or semblance of one coming from a Turian—Shepard turned to her intercom and opened the private channel, "Talk to me."

"Commander," Kelly's cheerful voice flitted through the room, "I thought you might like to know that we have managed to contact Kasumi Goto—or rather she contacted us; her reputation as a hacker certainly proceeds her. Regardless, she has agreed to work with us. She'll be expecting to meet us on the Zakera Ward once we reach the Citadel."

"Great. Thank you," Shepard said, "Will that be all?"

"That's all I have to report at this moment, Commander," Kelly replied, "I'll be sure to inform you if anything else comes up."

"That would be good, thanks," Shepard said. She hesitated, well aware of Garrus's eyes fixed on her from across the room.

"Commander?" Kelly asked, a hint of concern beginning to work its way into her voice, "Is there something else?"

"Uh," Shepard watched Garrus out of the corner of her eye, his stare drilling into her. After a moment's hesitation she sighed. "No, Kelly," she said finally, "That's it. As you were."

"Alright, Commander. You can talk to me if you need anything else."

"I know, Kelly, thank you," Shepard said, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Commander," Kelly chirped before the transmission shut off.

Shepard stood in silence, leaning over her desk, Garrus's eyes boring a hole into her skull. "Don't give me that look, Garrus," she warned, "I told you already how I feel about the matter. My decision is final."

Garrus just regarded her silently with his arms crossed, the disapproval never leaving his face.

Shepard sighed. "Look, Garrus, I'm tired," she said, taking a seat at her desk, "I could really use a break to just take a breather, alright? Can we put this conversation on hold for now?"

Garrus heaved a sigh, "Fine," he relented, "We'll talk later." With a nod he headed towards the door. On his way out, he paused in the doorway, "I do worry about you. You been through a lot and I don't think you've shed so much as a tear; but I know you want to."

"I'm not saying you should drop to your knees and scream to the sky," he continued, staring at Shepard's hunched form, "but I meant what I said; it's okay to break down sometimes. It isn't a weakness to be scared, nor is it weak to care and miss those we have lost and those we have left. Mourning is how we get over the past, and the longer you resist doing that, the harder it is going to be to leave the past where it belongs; behind you."

Having said his piece, Garrus placed a hand on Shepard's shoulder and gave it a pat, "Just think about what I said, okay?"

With that, he turned on his heel and left, the door closing behind him, leaving Shepard to her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious about the genetic enhancements thing I was talking about during the crew's discussion of Mavis' health, that was pretty much just me fiddling around with science (albeit poorly I admit). After hearing different people in game discussion various health related topics like a couple debating immno boosters for their son, I figured it wasn't unreasonable to assume that certain changes and advancements would have sprung up in the medical field in the Mass Effect universe allowing certain things to be treated or shaped before a person is even born. So in my headcanon, standard prenatal treatment and care strengthens human children during gestation and makes them more resistant to common viruses and illnesses, lowering health risks with immuno-boosters and genetic alterations to decrease a myriad of birth defects, inherited health risks and immune system based deficiencies. Of course this would only go so far and more severe conditions would not be able to be pre-emptive in the womb; such as Joker's condition which I imagine would be hard to diagnose while he was a fetus anyway.
> 
> If there is anything else anyone is confused about, please let me know.
> 
> Read and review if it suits your fancy! :)
> 
> Note 2: I sincerely hope people out there are reading and enjoying this story. I don't get much in the way of feedback on this and I admit it does get discouraging to me. That being said though, I will continue this story no matter what, even if I never get a single review. I made the effort to start this and the whole story is in my head dying to get out so I think I at least owe it to myself to see it all the way through.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah I know I probably don't have to post the disclaimer for every chapter, but you can never be too careful.

* * *

 

"So what exactly is it we're doing now?"

Chakwas rifled through her desk, looking for something. "A cranial nerve exam," she replied without turning to Mavis.

"So...you're going to exam my head?" Mavis inquired, "Like, my brain?"

"I guess you could put it like that," Chakwas switched her search to the opposite end of her desk, "It's an examination of your sensory and motor responses, your reflexes and such; more or less your nervous system." She opened a drawer and sorted through its contents. "Not there," she tsked, moving onto another drawer. It had to be around somewhere. "Its standard procedure after one endures blunt force trauma. We found contusions on the surface of your skull near the forehead. Considering the conditions you were apparently in prior to the explosion, I'd say it would be best to run a few tests. Certain nerves can be affected by head trauma or accidents and I would like to make sure everything is in working order."

"You're examining my brain," Mavis summarized blandly with a curt nod of her head.

Chakwas grinned over her shoulder at her. "Yes," she said bemused, "I'm examining your brain."

"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed, finding what she was looking for at last. She gathered up and assortment of containers and set them down on top of her desk. "I have what I need," she declared, "Now we can begin."

As she pulled her chair up in front of Mavis, a pair of hazel eyes stared up at her from just a little under Mavis' chin, wide with curiosity.

"Are you going to take Mavis' brain out to look at it?" Mikhail asked from where he was situated on Mavis' lap. He kicked his feet out merrily in front of him as he held onto Mavis' hands, the recent changing of her bandages no longer restricting her hands and allowing her more free movement.

Chakwas chuckled, "Not quite. I guess you could say I intend doing looking over her face for a bit, and see what is does."

"Now," she began, pulling up readings on her omni-tool; Mavis still was baffled by that thing, "I believe we should start with the olfactory nerve."

"The what-now?" Mavis asked.

"Smelling," Chakwas explained.

"The nose," Mikhail chirped, raising one hand up to poke Mavis in the nose, giggling when she scrunched up her face exaggeratedly.

Chakwas smiled affectionately down at Mikahil before redirecting her attention to Mavis. "I will be giving you three different things to smell," she said, "and I want you to smell them twice, one for each nostril, so you will be covering them one at a time. We'll start with the left nostril."

Mavis caught Mikhail's hand as it neared her nostrils. "I can plug my nose myself, Mickey," she said with a smirk.

More giggling.

"Once you have smelled them with each nostril," Chakwas continued, "I want you to tell me what it is you smell, alright?"

"Gotcha."

"Good," Chakwas reached for one of the containers on her desk before pausing, "You'll need to keep your eyes closed for this."

"Oh, alright—," a pair of hands clapped themselves over Mavis's eyes.

"No peeking," Mikhail insisted.

"Alright, alright," Mavis mollified. Not that she needed him to cover her left eye, it was still bandaged. She brought a finger to her left nostril. "Ready and waiting doc."

The sound of a lid being unscrewed reached her ears.

"Here's the first scent," Chakwas stated and a faint smell wafted under Mavis' nose, "Left nostril first."

The bouquet was sharp, spicy perhaps and as she took a few strong inhales, it tickled her nose, not unpleasant, but not exactly pleasant either.

"And now, the right nostril," Chakwas said, the scent switching sides, "What would you say that scent is?"

Mavis thought about it a moment, "Um…it smells like…I think its cinnamon?"

"Very good." Mavis could hear Chakwas put the container down and type something, presumably on her omni-tool.

"Ready for the next, scent?"

"Yep." Mavis replied.

Another lid unscrewing, "Left side again." A thick, pungent odor filled her nose on her next inhalation. It too had a spice like quality to it, but there was something warmer to it; richer. It was almost…creamy, if one could call that a smell.

"Other side," Chakwas said, once again switching, "Any guesses?"

The smell was harder to place this time, "Uh…"

"Take your time."

"Can I tell her?" Mikhail asked eagerly.

Chakwas shushed him. "No, dear," she admonished gently, "Mavis needs to get it on her own. What do you think it is, Mavis?"

Mavis mulled over the scent, breathing deep. "I think…"

She took another deep breath, trying to breathe in as much of the scent as possible. There was something comforting about it, calming. The mingling spices stirred something in her, capture her senses and eased into her, engulfed her. There was something vaguely familiar about it…

_A smattering of fake leaves decorated the table as the dishes were set out; dishes only saved for special occasions. A butter dish was placed down next to the cranberry sauce and a ridiculously large Cornucopia centerpiece spilling over with wax fruit._

_The lights turned down low and a hand came down onto her shoulder causing her to turn and look up into the faceless apparition of a man she should have been able to recall._

_A smile materialized onto the blank canvas where his face should have been. "Thanks for doing the baking, sweetie," he said, deep pleasant baritones washing over her, "I know it hasn't been easy since your mom brought the baby home, but we really do appreciate the extra help." He gestured to the table, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "You did a great job…"_

"Mavis?"

Mavis shook herself, sitting up with a start, "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" Chakwas asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, "You weren't quite with us for a second there."

"Oh, I," Mavis searched for words, "I'm sorry, I guess I just zoned out. I'm fine," she added, smoothing a comforting hand through Mikhail's hair as the boy stared worriedly up at her. He had pulled his hands away from her face when she had gone still.

"If you're sure…" Chakwas said doubtingly. When Mavis offered no more explanation, she moved on, "Do you want to try the scent again?"

Mavis shook her head, "No," she said, "No I think…I think I got it," her minded drifted back to that happy image, the table laden with festive food. There had been a sense of pride, of accomplishment as she looked at the spread. What was it that was on the table that she had been so proud of? She could almost see it there among the dishes, some sort of baked good…"I want to say…it's like a pie or something. Pumpkin?"

"Correct," Chakwas affirmed, "it's a pumpkin pie scented candle, one of my personal favorites."

Mavis looked off to the side, trying to hang onto that memory as it slowly tried to seep back into the recesses of her mind, "…mine too…" She closed her eyes again, relishing the comfort the remains of it had given her. The soft touch of Mikhail's small hands smoothed out over her face again in a makeshift blindfold.

She didn't see the look Chakwas shot her as the doctor regarded her carefully, "Let's move onto the last one, shall we?" One more lid was unscrewed and a new smell drifted up Mavis' nose one nostril at a time.

The fragrance was crisp, fresh even. It took only a few sniffs for Mavis to decide, "I've got it; it's tooth paste."

"Close," Chakwas said, "mint candies."

Mikhail wiggled in Mavis' lap, his hands coming down from her face. "Can I have one?"

" _May_ you have one?" Chakwas corrected as her face swam into view for Mavis again, "And yes, you may." She held the tin out for the excitable child.

As Mikhail enjoyed his candy, Chakwas looked up at Mavis. "Now we still have a few tests for your vision and facial nerves left to do," she stated, "though we won't be able to do them all until your left eye is healed up; the Corneal reflex in particular requires the ability to monitor the reaction of one eye while stimulus is applied to the other."

"And the Corneal reflex is what, exactly?" Mavis asked.

"The blinking reflex," Chakwas said, "it has to do with the facial nerves."

"Ah…gotcha."

Chakwas made a few notes in the files on her Omni-tool, recording the results of the first test. "Moving on," she said, finishing her typing, "it's time to test the optic nerve."

"Optic, I know that one," Mavis exclaimed, "Its vision."

"That is correct," Chakwas nodded.

Mavis grinned as much as her bandages would allow, "Well at least I know one thing on this test huh?"

Chakwas returned her smile with one of her own. "How about we start with Vision acuity?" she offered, "We need to know how clearly you see things. Normally I would ask you to cover an eye—"

A hand smacked Mavis in the face again, covering her eye and squishing the side of her nose.

"Thank you, Mikhail," Mavis said nasally, only to be met by more giggles and a candy-muffled "mmour welcomphmm."

"That won't be necessary," Chakwas stated pulling Mikhail's hand away, "Like I said we can't do the full series of vision tests while your left eye is wrapped, but we can at least see how strong your good eye is. Now then," she clicked something on her Omni-tool and a series of letters appeared projected over it in neat rows; Mikhail let out a soft gasp of fascination as it appeared. "Read the second line in for me."

Mavis tried to focus on the line as well as she could, "Um…Q…J…W…H….and a….T."

"Okay," Chakwas nodded, taking notes, "and the third line?"

"Uh…" Mavis peered at the line intently, but it was exceedingly difficult. Attempting to narrow her eye to see better resulted in her left eye attempting to squint on impulse, which stung as the tape over her eye pulled at the skin unpleasantly. "E…I think that's a K…another E maybe…or it might be an F…G…and D." Below her, she could hear Mikhail echoing her responses, pretending to take the test too.

"Alright," more note taking, "and the fifth line?"

Mavis' eye was twitching with how much effort she was putting into staring at the chart, "U…an R…P…maybe an X…and that squiggly thing looks like an S—no! a Z."

"Mm-hm," Chakwas hummed noncommittally. It was hard to tell if her responses were meant to be taken as a good sign or a bad thing and Mavis wondered if most doctors just sort of move on through test like these without relaying the results. A part of her though, maybe deep rooted in her memories sarcastically told her, _yes they do_.

"What about the first line?" Chakwas asked, "How clear is that line?"

"Crystal," Mavis replied glad that there was one line she could confidently read, "S,A,V,M,B."

"That one's easy!" Mikhail declared.

Chakwas nodded, taking another note. "Naturally these test don't give me a precise idea of what your eyesight normally is, as we do not have the records of past doctor's test to compare the results to, but at least for now we know how your right eye works currently and can go from there." She clicked on her Omni-tool again and the chart disappeared.

"Want to tell me how well I did on that one, Mickey?" Mavis asked Mikhail, adjusting him in her lap so that she could see his face.

Mikhail frowned, thinking. "Not as good as me," he replied.

"Gee thanks."

"We'll skip the Pupillary light reflex for now," Chakwas said, whipping out her pen light and leaning into Mavis's personal space. Grasping Mavis firmly by the chin, she pulled the young woman forward before moving to carefully and delicately hold Mavis' eyelids open while she examine her pupil. She clicked the pen light on and shined it into Mavis' eye. "Let's see…"

She held the light there for a moment to access the eye. Then, with a nod of her head, she leaned back slightly and moved the pen light straight up and then down in front of Mavis face before repeating the action from side to side and then diagonally, the beam of light leaving a comet-like streak across Mavis vision as it went. "We can see your right pupil dilates just fine, but without your left eye visible we have no way of knowing how your eyes react to it together." She turned the light off with a click. "Instead let's test your visual fields and get a reading on your periphery."

"How are you gonna do that?" Mikhail asked curiously. Truth was he had no idea what a periphery was. He just wanted to be a part of the conversation.

"Well, I'm going to move my finger in four spots just out of Mavis' direct line of sight," Chakwas explained, "and then she is going to tell me when she sees them out of the corner of her eye." She turned back to Mavis and added, "This will also be a test we'll be repeating once you're healed."

She cleared her throat and sat up straight in her chair. "Now, I want you to focus on my nose," she told Mavis, tapping the end of her nose with a finger, "Be sure not to waver from that point and to follow my finger. I need you to see it in your peripherals, not head on."

Mavis nodded, "I can do that."

"Good," Chakwas raised her hand off to the side and wiggled it. Then she brought it over to the other side and wiggled it again. Bringing it down lower, she repeated the process and then again on the opposite side, just underneath where she had started. Each time Mavis voiced her affirmation as she saw it and each time Chakwas entered a new note in her Omni-tool with her free hand.

"That was fairly simple, wouldn't you say?" Chakwas commented, "Next let's move onto the Oculomotor, Trochlear, and Abducens nerves."

Mavis blinked, "Uh…"

"Would you like me to explain what they are?"

"No," Mavis said quickly, clapping a hand over Mikhail's mouth so that the curious boy couldn't say yes, "No, I think I'm good. It all seems pretty complicated and I think I've learned enough new words for today."

Chakwas chuckled at that, "Let's just sum it up and say it has to do with some of your muscles and what controls them." She leaned forward and inspected Mavis' eye again, checking for drooping in the eyelids, finding none. "We'll quickly get your pupil size," she said, "shape and asymmetry and the like." She picked up a small, headband-like device with a box on it and a hole hollowed in the center, a glass film in the middle. Securing it around Mavis' head, she lined up the box with Mavis eye and fitted it right up against the eyelids, "Try not to blink for a moment."

The device came to life with a beep and a laser like beam filled the box, making Mavis flinch while Mikhail breathed out an exclamation of amazement. It fanned out over the surface of Mavis eye, a holographic scanner recording and filing away data on the pupil while Mavis sat there uncomfortably.

"That's done," Chakwas said, lifting the headband up off Mavis' head and removing a chip from the back to hook up to the Omni-tool, "I believe I have what I need for that part. Now I'm going to move my pen and without moving your head, I want you to follow it with your eyes." She stood up and backed a meter away from Mavis and raised her hand again, at the ready. "You tell me if you note any double vision while I will check for any excessive involuntary eye movement. Ready?"

"Ready and waiting."

Chakwas moved the pen in an 'H' shape at a relatively quick pace, pausing briefly between strokes through the air. She stared intently at Mavis' eye, accessing the reaction time and the amusing cat-like quality of attentiveness with which Mavis followed the pen, a thought that came to her when observing most patients she administered the test to after being battered around on a mission. It was almost comical the way it reminded her of a mischievous cat, geared up and ready to pounce. She then brought the pen in close to Mavis face to see if the pupil constricted properly and she tried to keep a level of professionalism and not laugh when Mavis went half cross-eyed with her good eye.

Mavis for her part didn't take notice of any trouble following the pen around the room, though her attention was divided between it and Mikhail's head bobbing around to follow the pen just under her line of vision, the kid clearly having ignored Chakwas directions on not moving while doing the test. He nearly fell out of her laugh at one point. Mavis was fairly certain she heard Gardner bark out a laugh from the kitchen, the cook no doubt observing them through the windows. The med bay didn't give much in the way of privacy, much to Mavis vexation.

"Now I'm going to do a few test on your Trigeminal nerve and your facial nerve," Chakwas continued, returning to her seat, "minus the corneal reflex test." She pulled out a cotton swab, a tuning fork, and a pointed metal medical tool of some sort and set them in her lap. "I hope you don't mind my prodding around on your face for a bit," she said apologetically.

She picked up the cotton swab first. Carefully, she lightly tapped Mavis chin, pressing against the skin before pulling away. She brought the swab up to the forehead and poked there as well, the soft cotton caressing Mavis' face for the briefest second before withdrawing again. She then moved onto each cheek, prodding into the dimples of Mavis' face before dropping the swab into her lap and swapping it for the metal tool. "Don't worry, it isn't sharp enough to prick you," Chakwas assured.

The tip of the tool pressing against her face was necessarily irritating but it was altogether welcome either. Every nerve felt hyper aware and sensitive to the touch. The slightest amount of pressure was applied at each point the swab had touched and just when Mavis thought it was beginning to get annoying, Chakwas pulled back and switch the tool out for the tuning fork.

The chilled surface was startling against Mavis' skin but not wholly unpleasant. The sleek and smooth surface brought goosebumps to her flesh and if she was honest with herself, it was actually quite soothing after the prickling sensation of the tool. Repeating the same process as the swab and the metal tool, the tuning fork was also discarded.

"There we go," Chakwas put the items away and made another note of her findings. She reached out and took Mavis' jaw in hand, "Next I want you to try and keep your jaw open while I try to push it closed. Go ahead." Mavis did as she was told, gently swatting Mikhail's hands away when he attempted to 'help' her hold her mouth open.

"Good. Now, move your jaw to the right while I push it to the left, and vice versa….very good." She made a note in her records, "We're almost done here. The rest of the tests are relatively quick."

The tests did indeed passed in no time at all. They are all pretty simple, testing the facial nerve by asking Mavis to do various things like smile and frown or show her upper and lower teeth and puff her cheeks out; things like wiggling her eyebrows and keeping her eye tightly shut while Chakwas tried to open it to test resistance. She shrugged her shoulders and turned her head from side to side when asked and let Chakwas monitor her mouth muscles while she said things like "Ka" and "Go". The gag reflex wasn't a fun test, nor was checking her Hypoglossal by touching and poking at her tongue while it felt like it was drying out with her mouth hanging open. The Vestibulocochlear was a series of hearing test, most involving the tuning fork, though the ear still under wraps wasn't very useful in those tests and they would have to be done again once the bandages came off.

"One last thing," Chakwas said finally, "and then we are done. I'm going to whisper a number into your ear and then I want you to repeat it to me, alright?"

Without waiting for a response, she moved her chair in closer and placed a hand over Mavis's left ear, being extremely careful not to press too hard lest she chafe the healing skin beneath the wrappings. Then she leaned forward so that her head was by Mavis right shoulder, close enough that Mavis could smell the mixture of sanitizer and vanilla soap that always seemed to linger on the doctor.

"One-six-seven-zero-two," Chakwas whispered lowly, her breath ghosting out over Mavis skin.

She pulled back and stared at Mavis, her notes at the ready, "Can you repeat that back to me?"

Mavis quickly ran over the number in her head and parroted it back to Chakwas.

Chakwas nodded and leaned in to try Mavis's left ear, "Nine-eight-one-seven-three."

It was harder to get that time, Mavis' damaged ear muffled under all the gauze, but she managed to relay what she at least thought she heard.

"Okay then," Chakwas said, still not giving Mavis much confirmation on how her test responses had fared. She marked something off in her Omni-tool and then turned it off, moving away from Mavis, "I'll add these to your file and when we get to the Citadel, I'll transfer these over to Huerta Memorial hospital for whoever they assign as your primary physician." She turned her back on Mavis and began placing everything back in its rightful place on her desk, "Now, as long as you are careful, you have my clearance to move about the ship, though I will have one of the crew keeping an eye on you." She settled into her chair at her desk, resuming her usual work, "While that person is finishing up some work on the upper level, you and Mikhail may have lunch in the mess-hall if you like."

"I want chicken nuggets!" Mikhail exclaimed jumping down off of Mavis' lap.

Chakwas laughed, "Let's hope Gardner made some then."

"Come on, Mavis," Mikhail urged, latching onto Mavis' good arm and tugging at it excitedly.

"Be careful, Mikhail," Chakwas admonished lightly.

Mavis was jerked awkwardly to her feet, "its fine," she assured, detaching herself from Mikhail and switching to wrapping an arm around his shoulders, just as much a means to keep her balance as she walked as it was a gesture of affection to the young boy, "It's nice to actually get up and around after all that bed rest."

"Not that you didn't fight me every step of the way," Chakwas chided, "I found you one too many times trying to slide out of bed without my notice."

Mavis had the good grace to look at least a bit ashamed, "I was beginning to worry you were going to strap me down to keep me there."

Chakwas gave her an exaggeratedly sinister grin, "I almost did."

Mavis whistled. "Well on that disturbing note," she began, "I think I'll grab a bite to eat."

Chakwas waved, settling back into her chair, "Take it easy," she reminded.

Mikhail wiggled out of Mavis' grasp and leapt out the door, leaving Mavis to shakily carry herself after him.

Just as she was about to leave the Med Bay, she paused. "Hey, uh Dr. Chakwas?"

"Hm?" Chakwas replied preoccupied with sorting her files.

Mavis hesitated, not sure how to bring it up, or if she should say anything at all, "Can…can a memory be retrieve by coming in contact with things from our past Maybe sights or sounds…or smells?"

Chakwas set her tablet down and spun her chair around, taking Mavis in, "So you did remember something," she said knowingly.

Mavis wasn't even going to questioning how she knew, "Yeah it was…it was after I smelled that candle. The pumpkin smell it reminded me of a holiday, or something. A family gathering at least."

"Well," Chakwas said, "certain smells and sounds and even actions can trigger things we thought we had forgotten, even for those without memory loss. The smell of ash can remind someone of a campfire or the time they burnt dinner when cooking for the first time. A specific song can remind someone during a test of the notes they should have been studying while playing the radio; that's how I used to memorize my exams back in school. I connected certain lyrics to the lines I happened to read while I was listening to them."

Mavis thought that over, "Makes sense I suppose."

"Was it a nice memory?" Chakwas asked.

Mavis nodded. "Yeah," she said, smiling fondly. "I was in a home setting the table for dinner with my dad, I think. Everything was so, cozy. And right. It seemed like a nice place."

Chakwas smiled, "I'm sure it was. But I don't want you to get your hopes up, Mavis," she warned, "There is no guarantee of what things will trigger a memory and what will not. These occasions could be common and numerous or few and far between."

Mavis nodded, turning for the door. "I'll try to keep that in mind," she promised as she left.

* * *

 

"Chicken Salad _again_ , Gardner?" Hawthorne groused, "That's the second time this week. Are you even trying to mix it up a bit?"

Gardner glared at him over a plate of diced celery, "Excuse me, your highness, but last time I checked how often you eat something in a week shouldn't matter as long as it taste good."

Hawthorne stared forlornly down at his plate. "Then it too bad this doesn't taste good," he all but whined.

"Don't think I won't come over there, Dick!"

Mavis clapped her hands over Mikhail's ears, this being standard practice since she had become accustomed to the more crude banter exchanged among the crew. The ship certainly wasn't a place used to having impressionable children running around.

Goldstein giggled, leaning over the table at Mavis to whisper amusedly, "Only with Richard can Gardner actually call someone a dick and get away with claiming it isn't an insult."

Mavis snorted, "Who ever said Dick should be a nickname for Richard had a pretty cheeky sense of humor."

Goldstein grinned, "Must have been named in honor of a Richard who was a real dick."

Hawthorne frowned as the two women dissolved into a fit of snorts and giggles, the aforementioned 'Dick' reaching over and swiping an apple off of Goldstein's tray and biting into spitefully. He glared at her challengingly.

Goldstein stared back at him unfazed. "You know I wasn't eating that because Mikhail sneezed on that apple, right?" she asked blandly.

"Ugh!" Hawthorne spat out chunks of fruit across the table, narrowly missing Mavis, "Now whose the dick, Jenny?"

"What'cha talking about?" Mikhail asked, voice loud as inside voices where nonexistent since he could barely hear through Mavis' hands.

"Nothing," Mavis said quickly, taking her hands away, "Big people stuff."

"Like what?"

"Nothing," Mavis insisted.

Mikhail continued to stare at her curiously.

Mavis stared back, not going to be swayed by a mere child. "Eat your nuggets," she said sternly after a moment, nudging his tray.

Mikhail shrugged and resumed eating his chicken nuggets with gusto, the dish having been whipped up just for him, courtesy of the resident cook.

"Lucky kid," Hawthorne griped, staring at Mikhail's tray and then down at his own.

"Shut up and eat your snot apple," Goldstein snarked.

Mavis smiled. In the few days she had been awake, Goldstein and Hawthorne had been regulars in her everyday routine. It was mainly because they took up quite a bit of the slack in looking after Mikhail and accompanying him to his meals, but the extra social interaction was appreciated nonetheless. The pair was almost inseparable and rarely seen without the other. From what Mavis had come to understand, they had gone into Cerberus training together prior to being hired for the Normandy crew. Goldstein always had a warm smile to offer and a friendly word to share and Hawthorne was never short of his supply of quips and sarcasm (mainly towards Gardner) and she had come to enjoy their company.

It wasn't exactly like they were the best of friends with her now, but they were definitely welcoming enough whenever they saw her. It was like work friends, if she could put a name on it. They made the day more bearable, but it wasn't like they were close sort of friend she would share secrets with; if she had any to remember.

Gardner was nice too. He was warm, approachable, in a fatherly sort of way or the fun Uncle who spoiled you rotten when your parents weren't looking. He was always dishing out sass to the crew but he seemed to have a soft spot for Mikhail and in part her. Since she woke up that first day he had stopped by the Med Bay regularly to see how she was doing and to bring her meals; they weren't the best, but Mavis liked the way his face lit up when she said otherwise.

This was the first time she was eating in the Mess Hall—or allowed to leave her bed for that matter (goodbye bedpan)—and Gardner had been happy to see her up and about and had told her so quite boisterously…before threatening to spit in Hawthorne's food if the crewman didn't start showing some appreciation for his cooking.

All in all it was nice to have something to take her mind off…just about everything going on in her head. She had avoided looking in mirrors like the plague, refusing Kelly's offers to see one during their sessions—twice a day until the woman said otherwise. The redhead had said it would help her 'cope with the changes' or something.

Frankly it wasn't change that was making Mavis so hesitant. She had said before that she had nothing to compare her body to now and wouldn't until she regained her memory. It wasn't the idea that she wouldn't look the same as she did before that bothered her; it was the fact that whatever she looked like now, it wasn't going to be pretty to look at. Whatever she looked like now, it was going to be how she would have to go out in public. She didn't know if she wanted to carry such obvious evidence of what she had gone through, it was hard enough carry the weight of it emotionally.

She hadn't spoken much of what happened on Horizon since her first session with Kelly, and frankly she didn't want to. Going into this blind, she essentially was starting a new life and she rather that not be her earliest memories.

That didn't stop the dreams though. She kept seeing those zombie-like creatures—husks someone had said they were called—in her dreams, chasing her, stalking her like prey. Sometimes she didn't get away. Sometimes she collapsed under the weight of exhaustion, the weight of carrying Mikhail and they would descend on them both like a pack of hungry wolves. Sometimes she stumbled and fell to the ground, Mikhail rolling out of her arms like a rag doll and into their clutches as she shrieked and cried for him, trapped under a pile of screaming, clawing beasts that would not let her escape.

Losing Mikhail's mom played out differently in her head each time. She'd get eaten alive by the swarm or shot through the stomach by those insectoid creatures, her broken and lifeless gaze falling on Mavis as her intestines spilled out of her like slippery ribbons as she dropped to her knees and fell limply into dirt.

Sometimes it was Mavis in her place and no one knew her enough to care or weep for her.

She dreamed about fire too, how it scorched her skin and crackled and popped on her flesh. It was like an out of body experience; she'd watched herself be engulfed in the flames and she stumbled around in a glowing blaze of flailing limbs and strangled screams. Her skin would melt off and stain her clothes and her bone would be revealed as it charred and cracked under the intense heat until there was nothing left but a hollow skull and she'd wake up in a cold sweat, Mikhail asleep besides her, the reassurance that she had indeed made it out alive. It was those dreams that made her apprehensions about the bandages coming off that much worse.

Once or twice she broke down when Mikhail was not present, let Kelly in and see her fractured mind, her fears and grief. She'd cried and howled, cursed Katiana for leaving her to deal with this alone and leaving her to protect Mikhail when she could barely protect herself, cursed Mikhail for looking at her like she could was his hero, for making her feel responsible for him. She cursed at herself for having woken up at all, for having stood there and done nothing when Katiana left, for having no one to blame but her own stupidity for why she was probably scarred beyond belief. But she'd lock those feelings up just as quickly, roll over and turn her back on Kelly and hated the woman for being so kind and understanding when all she wanted was her to be maybe callous and cruel so that Mavis could have someone to yell at.

"Hey," Goldstein tapped her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts, "your tour guide's here." She jerked her head towards the handsome dark skinned young man approaching their table.

"Hi, Jacob!" Mikhail called, getting a brief wave in return.

"We would have given you a look of the ship," Hawthorne added, "but the Commander has been coming down on us for shirking our duties lately. Apparently whenever she comes down here we're always in the Mess Hall."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the new guy said as he reached them, "I needed to finish my assessment of the crew's weapons before I could come down." He stuck a hand out, "Jacob Taylor," he said formally, "I'll be escorting you around the ship today."

"I appreciate that," Mavis replied, shaking his hand, "I'm Mavis. And I guess you already know Mikhail."

"Yeah, he uh, stops by from time to time," Jacob shrugged, rubbing that back of his neck dismissively, "You get used to seeing him around after a few visits."

"Joker says I'm the ship's Mascot!" Mikhail chirped happily. He took another bite of his nuggets, chewing thoughtfully before pausing mid bite. His face screwed up in thought and he turned to Mavis, "What's a mascot anyway?"

Mavis grinned, "Usually it's an animal or something that sports teams use as their name or symbol," she explained, "something impressive; like Tigers or Lions or—,"

"I want to be a bunny!"

"Bunnies don't eat chicken nuggets," Hawthorne pointed out, eyeing Mikhail's tray, "what do you say we just give me the nuggets and you can have a nice carrot—,"

"No!" Mikhail snatched his tray up and leapt up away from the table. He hurried over behind Jacob with his coveted chicken. "Bunnies can eat chicken nuggets sometimes," he insisted, peering out from around Jacob, "Right, Mavis?"

Mavis smiled sympathetically, finding the kid's behavior adorably endearing, "Sure, Mickey. Bunnies can eat chicken nuggets."

Mikhail cheered triumphantly, sticking his tongue out at Hawthorne, "Told you!"

Jacob cleared his throat, "If you're finished here, Mavis," he began, "we can start the tour of the ship."

"Oh," Mavis wiped her mouth with her napkin, pushing her tray away, "I'm done, but Mikhail is still eating."

"I can ask for a member of the crew to watch him if you like—,"

"I wanna come!" Mikhail declared, setting his tray back down and shoving his last few bites in his mouth hurriedly.

Mavis put her hands over his, keeping him from taking another bite, "Don't eat so fast, Mickey," she scolded, "You'll choke."

Mikhail grimaced apologetically, chewing slower. When he was finished he pushed his tray away and jumped up, "Done!"

Jacob held his hand out to Mavis, "Ready to go?"

Mavis waved off his hand, "I can get up on my own," she told him, wanting to have at least some independence after being coddled and fussed over by therapists and doctors. She struggled to her feet and took a few hesitant steps away from the table, getting her bearings. "Alright," she said once she was sure she wasn't going to fall over, "Let's do this."

Jacob nodded, "We'll start with this level of the ship then," he said, the very model of a disciplined soldier that Mikhail had described him as. He was treating this like it was just another mission out in the field; his duty and Mavis was going to make it her mission to get to crack at least one smile during the tour if it killed her.

"Lead the way, Taylor." She gestured dramatically with a wave of her hand, a sort of 'after you' gesture—only she stumbled on weak legs and winced at the twinge in her side as her muscled stretched.

The corner of Taylor's mouth twitched ever so slightly but other than that he remained unphased. He stood up straight and with a firm nod he turned and walked off, expecting her to follow.

_So close._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up and I am feeling an undeserving sense of accomplishment.  
> Once again, a ton of research went into the medical aspects of this chapter.
> 
> Sorry if this chapter seems vaguely uninteresting. I had several reasons for the focus of this chapter. First I wanted to develop the relationship between Mavis and Mikhail as it grows and that of Mavis and a few of the crew (anyone else catch the slight fourth wall break by Hawthorne? You get a cookie if you do!) She sees Chakwas on a regular basis and even under a professional level, it is normal for patients and doctors to have a semblance of informality around each other, almost a camaraderie.  
> Another reason for this chapter was that I wanted to have a semi-realistic process of recovery for a character. I am often bothered by stories where a character is injured for dramatic effect and then once the desired reaction is received, the character seems to be completely healed without any thought process by the writer on how so severe an injury would affect them (I have the same feelings about stories that use rape for dramatic effect and then do no development on how the character deals with it afterwards, simply moving on with new plotlines instead). Considering much of Mavis' recovery will be on the Normandy during the trip to the Citadel, she is going to become quite accustom to certain people, like Kelly being her therapist and Chakwas being her doctor, so this reason ties into the second season.
> 
> The last reason was completely silly and for that I apologize. I frequently watch ASMR videos to relax, some of which feature medical procedures (if you don't know what ASMR is, a quick google search will clear things up. Don't worry it is nothing dirty) and I was sort of channeling that when writing down the medical procedures in today's chapter.
> 
> I feel like Chakwas would be the sort of person who would prefer to do most medical tasks herself rather than leave it entirely to machines, hence why she does most of the examination herself. And yes, I made up the tech for the headband thing that measured Mavis' eye. That was my poor attempt at made up technology...enjoy it and laugh if you wish XP
> 
> I wanted to give a little focus to minor characters mainly because I feel it is unrealistic for a story to have an oc interact solely with the main cast. Even if the minor characters have little to no role other than to fill up space, it makes sense that people from the main cast would probably still come in contact with them from time to time, that they wouldn't simply be nameless faces disregarded completely. Hence the little bit of dialogue with Hawthorne and Goldstein.
> 
> Next chapter, Mavis meets the crew and the crew gets further developed. Stay tuned!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah I know I probably don't have to post the disclaimer for every chapter, but you can never be too careful. Let me know if you get tired of seeing this.
> 
> Once again, this is an un-beta'd chapter, so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me. On that note, if anyone reading this is a beta or knows of an available one, please feel free to contact me. I really need someone familiar with the Mass Effect story to help me catch my mistakes here.

* * *

 

Jacob got right down to business once the tour started.

"You are already familiar with the Med Bay," he said, stopping only briefly outside the doors to Mavis' current room of residence, "I'm sure you noticed there's another set of doors in there."

Mavis nodded, "Yeah. But I've never really seen going in and out of there."

There's a reason for that; it's where our AI core is located, the artificial intelligence that functions in part with the ship."

"I know what AI stands for," Mavis pointed out, hobbling along besides him, "I'm amnesiac, not clueless. Then again," she stopped mid step, baffled, "I'm not entirely sure _why_ I know what it is."

"Well I suppose it is pretty basic knowledge they teach in school," Jacob said.

Mavis considered this, "Yeah, I guess that must be it."

"Anyway, the AI runs itself for the most part and rarely requires hands on maintenance," Jacob continued, "Hence the reason you haven't seen any activity in there. The Commander requests that you stay out of the AI core," at this, Jacob turned to face Mavis fully, looking her sternly in the eye, "It holds delicate equipment and is deemed restricted to anyone who isn't qualified personnel. If you ignore these orders you will have to be placed under arrest until we can hand you over to Citadel custody on the grounds of suspected tampering or espionage."

Mavis blanched, "Okay, message received; no snooping through the ship." She spared a glance at the boy walking besides her, "Mikhail promises too."

Mikhail nodded affably, "We promise."

Jacob regarded the pair carefully for a moment before nodding curtly, continuing on his way.

Mavis followed behind with Mikhail at a distance, eyes fixed on the soldier's back. She was getting the feeling that Jacob wasn't too keen on warming up to her anytime soon. Seriously, _espionage?_ Sure she was a stranger, but it wasn't like she had dropped out of a ceiling vent in a cat suit humming the Mission Impossible theme song or something. What did he think she was going to do; hijack the ship? And would it kill him to smile at Mikhail from time to time? He couldn't possible think the kid was as suspicious as he found her, could he?

Mavis huffed petulantly. The day was already half over and she was beginning to regret leaving the Med Bay.

"As you can see, this is the crew deck," Jacob said ahead of her, waving a hand casually towards the large hard to miss letters stating as much, emblazoned on the wall across from the elevator, "and these are the crew's quarters," he explained, heading over to a new door on the left.

"Let's go in!" Mikhail shouted, tugging on Mavis sleeve.

Mavis turned to Jacob, "Can we?"

Jacob shrugged, "I don't see why not," he replied.

The doors opened automatically as Jacob approached and he stepped aside to let Mavis pass. Inside two crewmen sat at a table by a rather large window.

"There's the little cutie!" One of them, a tan skinned brunette woman exclaimed, positively beaming at Mikhail, "I was wondering when you'd stop by today."

"Hi Miss Patel," Mikhail greeted, skipping over to her.

Patel laughed, "I told you, you can call me Sarah," she scolded playfully, giving Mikhail a hug.

"Hi, Mikhail," the man seated besides Patel called out, "I was beginning to think you wouldn't be coming to see us." He looked on fondly as the boy clambered over to him. He rested a hand on Mikhail's shoulder and a fond, but wistful smile crossed his face. Peering down at the table, Mavis spied a picture of a baby in front of him. _'His kid'_ , she guessed, _'he must miss her.'_

Mavis felt oddly out of place in the crew's quarters, like she was intruding on some else' conversation. Mikhail had become quite familiar with various members of the crew while she was stuck in recovery and he seemed to have developed his own little routine with them while Mavis was sort of a third wheel. They probably all found Mikhail to be an instantly likeable presence on the ship; it was impossible to look at that kid's smile and not find his enthusiasm contagious, but Mavis didn't exactly have his childish charm considering her age.

While Mikhail launched into an excited babble about his day—rather uneventful, but apparently just about everything was amazing to Mikhail—Mavis took the time to look around the dimly lit room. There were quite a few bunk beds lining the walls with a few floor-to-ceiling dressers between them. The whole place was just shades of gray and faintly Mavis wondered how anyone could find themselves comfortable enough to sleep in such a bland and drab looking room. She had enough trouble sleeping in the sterile atmosphere of the Med Bay with all the nightmares and the tenderness of her wounds.

She turned away from the beds and her gaze fell on the window behind Patel. Walking passed the crewmen, she stepped up to the window and her eyes widened. Stretching for yards in front of her was a massive sphere covered in glowing orange lights. It was a huge metal structure that panned out far above the floor she was on and far below her. Mavis stared dumbstruck at it. Just how big was this ship?

"We haven't been properly introduced," Mavis turned around to find Patel standing behind her. The woman offered a hand, "Sarah Patel," she said. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the man by Mikhail, "and that's Rolston."

Rolston waved a hand in greeting, "Vadim Rolston," he supplied, "nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Mavis returned as she shook Patel's hand.

"I've got to tell you, having Mikhail here has been a little ray of sunshine," Rolston said, patting Mikhail on the head, "it's not often we get to be around kids while on the job."

Patel nodded, "He never stops talking about you," she added, "you two must be close."

Mavis bent down to hug Mavis as he wandered back over to her and latched onto her waist like a limpet, "Actually we just met a few days ago on the colony…" she trailed off with a wince.

Patel frowned knowingly, sensing she was treading on a touchy subject, "So," she began, changing the subject, "Taylor giving you a tour?"

Mavis nodded, "Yeah. We started a few minutes ago." She looked back at the big sphere out the window.

Patel followed Mavis' gaze back out the window. "That's the drive core," she explained, "pretty impressive, right?"

"Yeah," Mavis agreed, "So it uh, drives the ship?"

"It's or less where the speed and power of the ship comes from for the most part," Patel elaborated.

"So it powers the whole ship?" Mavis craned her neck to see the stetching expanse of the drive core out the window. It sounded more like something out of a movie to her, "I guess I didn't really know what to expect when I started this tour, but this really blows me away. Are all drive cores this big?"

Patel shrugged, "Some are smaller I imagine; depends on the size of the ship. That's more of a question for Daniels and Donnelly down in engineering though."

Jacob cleared his throat, "I don't think we will be visiting engineering today, Patel," he said, "it's not really a place for children and—,"

"I get it," Mavis cut in, saving him the trouble of explaining, "more delicate equipment you don't want me or Mikhail messing around with, right?"

Jacob hesitated, "Yeah. That's it."

Mavis rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Mikhail who was pressed against the window peering out at the drive core.

She missed the look Patel and Rolston shared with Jacob. Patel glanced at Mavis. _'You don't want these two running into_ her?' she mouthed questioningly.

Jacob nodded. _'Or the other one.'_

"If you are ready," he called out to Mavis, "we can continue the tour."

"Oh, uh sure," Mavis held a hand out for Mikhail.

"Guess we'll see you later," Patel called after them as they left.

Mavis turned back around to wave at her and Rolston as the door closed behind them.

Jacob moved further off to the left side of the hallway. "Before we go any farther," he began, "We should probably show you the restrooms now that you will be allowed about the ship and will be able to take care of those functions yourself."

"Okay, for starters," Mavis said, "does _everybody_ know about the bedpan and sponge baths?! And also, why didn't you show me that to begin with?" She shifted on her feet, "I've sort of needed to go since lunch."

Jacob shrugged, "You should have said something earlier."

Mavis glowered at him, "excuse me for not wanting to ask you for an escort to take a pee," she snapped sassily, watching her language for Mikhail's sake.

Was that a smile Jacob almost cracked? Most likely at Mavis' expense but it was something, surely.

"I have to go too," Mikhail chirped.

Mavis eyed Mikhail suspiciously, "Do you really need to go or are you just saying that?" the kid had a habit of wanting to do everything she did these past few days. He even wanted to take the same medical exams as her. The mimicry would be annoying if the kid wasn't so damn endearing.

Mikhail nodded. "I really need to go," he stated in a poor attempt at seriousness. He danced around from foot to foot in a silly sort of 'potty dance'.

"The men's room is on the other end of the hall," Jacob offered.

"He's a little kid," Mavis retorted, walking Mikhail to the women's room, "I don't think anyone will mind if he uses the ladies room with me."

Jacob raised an eyebrow at her, skeptically, "It isn't exactly appropriate."

"Look, I know you're probably all about protocol and rules and such, but he's a child," Mavis insisted, "There isn't exactly anything scandalous about him being in the ladies room."

Jacob still didn't look convinced.

Mavis sighed, "I'm just trying to make things easier on you. Mikhail can't just wander the ship alone and you can't take us both to the bathroom at the same time and frankly I don't think either of us can hold it for much longer. Either he goes to the ladies room with me or you have to leave me alone while you take Mikhail."

"Fine," Jacob relented, not exactly wanting to leave some unknown woman unsupervised on the ship.

Mavis grinned triumphantly, "So the bathroom's right through this door, right?" she clarified. Without waiting for an answer, she walked into the room—

"This…is the restroom?" she asked.

It was tiny. It was small ad cramped and like everything else she'd seen so far it was in shades of dull gray. There were only two toilets and to her horror she couldn't see any form of door on either of the stalls and the shower area was one big space with multiple facets and showerheads. "You know what, I can hold it."

"Is something wrong?" Jacob asked.

Mavis grimaced, "Well…I mean this isn't exactly what I'd call appropriate, you know?" She gestured to shower disdainfully, "Is the men's room like this? Do you guys just shower communally? And there's only one sink! How does that work in a room designed for more than one person to use it at once? And don't even get me started on the toilets," she pointed flabbergasted at the stalls, "Where are the doors?! Don't you care about privacy?" In the back of her mind she knew she was probably coming off as a bit of a jerk, but come on! It was understandable; who wants to go to the bathroom so publically?!

"If I may, Mavis," a computerized voice lofted over their heads, "the doors are only down when not in use."

Mavis jumped, her gaze darting up to the ceiling. "What was that?" she flattened herself against the wall, her eyes darting wildly around the room.

"That's EDI," Jacob explained, from the doorway, "I told you we had an AI."

"You didn't tell me it pull a freaky voice-of-god thing from the ceiling," she snapped.

Jacob regarded her with a raised eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed, "It's an artificial intelligence," he reminded her, "Did you think it wasn't capable of talking."

"That's not what I meant—,"

"It was not my intent to startle you," EDI replied factually, "I only wished to inform you of the restroom's privacy functions."

"Okaaaay," Mavis said slowly, "so how does it work?" She kept scanning the room for a source of the voice. _'Please tell me the toilet itself isn't talking.'_

"When a stall is in use, a holoscreen activates allowing crewmembers optimal discretion in bodily functions."

"Like this," Mikhail skipped into a stall and just as EDI said it would, a non-transparent screen flickered up, obscuring him from view.

"You knew how it worked?" Mavis exclaimed exasperatedly after the little boy, "Why didn't you tell me?"

The only response she got was a giggle and a set of little feet tapping out a tune on the floor. _'Cheeky little squirt.'_

"Okay, that's better," Mavis conceded, "What about the shower?"

"The shower is communal," EDI stated, "The members of the Normandy have all gone some extent of military training. It is quite common in such training regimes for trainees to become accustom to bathing and washing shared quarters to save time."

Mavis cringed, "…I'll cross that hurdle later I guess. Maybe I can stick to the sponge baths," she added as an afterthought, "For now I need to go." She headed for the available stall. Pausing she looked back up at the ceiling, "You're…not going to watch me go to the bathroom, are you?" she asked the AI.

"Surveillance is kept to a minimum in the restroom facilities, Mavis," EDI replied, "While I maintain various surveillance of the ship, it is not my intent to spy crew."

"She's an AI," Jacob pointed out, "She's processing data; it's not like she has an opinion to what you do in here anyway."

Mavis looked back and forth between the ceiling and Jacob warily. "…Alright…"

Jacob nodded, "I'll wait outside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter here.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah I know I probably don't have to post the disclaimer for every chapter, but you can never be too careful. Let me know if you get tired of seeing this.

* * *

 

"So," Mavis said, exiting the bathroom with Mikhail, "Are there any other rooms you want to show me or are we going to move onto a different deck? You already said you wouldn't be taking me to the bowels of the ship."

Jacob frowned, "You mean the Engineering deck."

"Yeah the bowels," Mavis peered up at Jacob, noting his frown deepened.

"Does…" she asked, "does that word bother you?"

Jacob sniffed, "We actually have a few move rooms to cover on this deck," he said walking away from her.

"It does!" Mavis cried gleefully, catching up to him, Mikhail hot on her heels, "It does bother you." She smirked evilly at Jacob. "Bowels," she repeated.

Jacob ignored her.

"Say it," she insisted, "Come on give it a try. Just say it: bowels. _Bowels._ "

"Moving on," Jacob said loudly, "We have the Port Observation room." He opened the door at the end of the hall and stepped aside for Mavis.

Mavis entered the room and spared the place a glance. "Well this certainly is far cozier than the rest of this deck," she commented, eyeing the bar and the soft glow of the lights on the far wall. There were even a few potted plants scattered about, though a part of her had to wonder if they were real or fake; it wasn't like the lighting could provide them the sunlight they needed, right? "But don't think you can distract me. We're still on this bowel thing. Now come on! What's it going to take you to say it?"

Jacob said nothing, he merely walked over to the wall across from her. Leaning against it he finally graced her with a smile. No…it wasn't really a smile, it was more of a cocky smirk. Without a word, he pressed a button and the wall began to lift.

Mavis stepped back warily, "Just what are you up to—woah…"

A vast sea of stars spanned out as far as the eye could see. A spacious galaxy filled the void outside the ship.

Mavis breath was gone. It was just gone and she had very little concern for where it went. She didn't dare breathe, she hesitated to move and she didn't even want to blink. Mikhail's hand slipped out of her own as she approached the window as if in a trance.

"This…" Mavis stared in wonderment. The window's glass was so clear and pristine and clean, it was almost like it wasn't even there at all. She placed one hesitant hand on that window, her fingers fanning out across the chilled glass. Her other hand soon followed. Like a child at the zoo, she shifted closer until the tip of her nose was ever so slightly pressing against the glass, leaving smudges in the cloudy vapor she huffed against the glass. Everywhere she looked was nothing but inky blackness and shinning, glittering stars. It was beautiful. "This is…"

"Nice isn't it," Jacob came up to stand next to her, his hands tucked casually behind his back.

Mavis nodded dumbly. "Nice doesn't cover it. It's…amazing."

"This is one of the Crew's favorite places on the ship," Jacob explained, "We come here when we have some downtime. Play cards, have a drink; it's relaxing."

"Relax?" Mavis stepped away from the window, staring at Jacob like he had just declared himself Chancellor of the moon, "How-how can you be so casual about this? All that out there," she gestured wildly at the window, glancing between Jacob and Mikhail as the little boy bounced up and down on one of the couches, "this is incredible! How does this not blow you mind?"

Jacob shrugged, "Not my first time on a ship," he replied.

"I flew on a ship once when I went to visit my Auntie," Mikhail told Mavis proudly, "I wasn't scared at all."

"This is all pretty second nature to us," Jacob explained, "most people board a ship at some point in their lives. Seeing this is a pretty casual occurrence." He looked Mavis up and down, "This really doesn't seem familiar to you at all?" he asked, "It doesn't spark any memory or feeling in you, like you've seen it before?"

Mavis shook her head, "Not at all. Amnesia, remember?"

"But that wouldn't affect you from recognizing this if you were used to it growing up," Jacob muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

Jacob shook his head, "Nothing. Just enjoy the view."

"Oh you don't need to tell me twice," Mavis replied, gazing back out the window.

"We actually have another observation room." Jacob brought up after a moment, "It's at the other end of the hall; the Starboard Observation room. Would you like to see it?"

Mavis pulled away from the window with a grin, "Show me."

Grabbing Mikhail's hand, she followed Jacob down the hall to another door. She barely waited for the door to open before stumbling eagerly inside.

The room itself wasn't as cozy and stylish as the one on the port side, but it still had the glorious view of the stars, the window having apparently been opened before they arrived. The white color of the room seemed to make the glow from the stars outside seem that much brighter, basking the room in an alluring, almost magical radiance.

Mavis didn't plaster herself to the window this time but rather hobbled over to one of the couches in front of it, her body sinking into the surprisingly plush cushion beneath her. She sat back and gaped at the view before her. If this was what being in space offered, maybe things weren't going to be as bad as she thought they would be.

The couch shook a little as someone plopped down besides her. Mavis turned to Mikhail's grinning face and returned it with one of her own; his smile was contagious, no question.

Looking passed Mikhail, her eyes landed on something she had missed when she first entered the room. A rather interesting series of shelves sat against the wall, the nooks and crannies all varying in size and length like some abstract painting. But it was what was stacked on those shelves that really peaked Mavis' interest.

"You have a library?" she asked Jacob excitedly.

Jacob nodded and that was all Mavis needed to know before she was shooting up from the couch and across the room as fast as her body would let her.

"I love books!" she exclaimed, fingering the spines of a few novels. She pulled one off the shelf but paused before opening it, giving Jacob a contemplative look. "I love books…" she repeated curiously, realizing the weight of such a statement, "huh…well that's one thing I can say I know about my past self," she shrugged, "weird."

Jacob said nothing, just tilted his head in acknowledgement, not sure how she expected him to react to such news.

Mavis opened the book she had picked and thumbed through the pages inquisitively. Her eyes scanned the pages attentively and frowned. She didn't recognize any of the symbols spilled out across the pages. She blinked and looked closer. Nope, the symbols still didn't make sense.

Her frown deepened. She knew it couldn't be her head injury that was affecting her; she had been able to read the letters on Chakwas' eye chart just fine. She doubted some knew problem could have sprouted up in the few hours since her examination. So why did the words in the book look so strange to her?

"Jacob," she called, beckoning the man closer, "What's up with this book?" She turned the book sideways and squinted, "I can't make out this writing. What language is this?"

Jacob leaned over her and examined the book in her hands, Mikhail following after him and standing on his tippy toes to see the book.

"That's Turian," Jacob explained, "that's how they write it." He took the book for a moment and flipped through it, "Even with schooling not too many humans can read it fluently." He handed the book back to her, "Garrus could probably read it to you if you really wanted to know what it says."

Mavis faltered at that, snapping the book shut in surprise. It fell out of her hands and Mikhail snatched it up, looking through it curiously.

"That's the gray guy, right?" Mavis asked timidly, "I don't have to go meet him, do I?" The Turian hadn't been to the Med Bay since their first encounter. Though Kelly's vouching for his kind nature had made her feel somewhat guilty for her hostile reaction to him, Mavis was rather relieved that he hadn't made a second appearance.

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "You're going to have to eventually," he said matter of factly, "and Mordin too; to get accustom to aliens. We're headed to the Citadel and there are many aliens there."

Mavis paled, "There are?"

Jacob nodded, "Probably more aliens there than there are humans."

"Oh," Mavis looked away, imagining a city packing full of crowds of those foreign looking creatures spilling out of everywhere. She felt sick. "That's…great…" she said weakly, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, "I can't wait…"

"You know you don't have to be afraid of them," Jacob told her, "The majority of aliens are no different than you or me; they're good people. From what I understand, Garrus has always done what he could to help people and Dr. Solus is an incredible doctor who has saved many people, including humans. He did a lot to treat your injuries when you arrived."

Mavis nodded grimly; it wasn't like she hadn't heard this all before from a number of people, "Yeah, so I've heard. Tell him I said thanks."

"You could always thank him yourself," Jacob offered.

Mavis cringed, "I'll think about it."

Mikhail frowned up at her, "Why don't you like Garrus, Mavis?" he asked.

"I don't…" Mavis fumbled for words, "It's not that I don't like him," she rushed to assure him when his frown turned into a pout, "I'm just…shy around new people."

"You don't like him," Mikhail insisted, "you screamed at him when he came to visit. Don't you want to be his friend?"

"I do," Mavis lied, "really I do. He surprised me. It'll just…it takes some getting used to, I guess. I don't think I was around aliens much growing up." She looked into Mikhail's eyes, "I don't hate him," she repeated, "I don't."

Mikhail studied her for a moment, peering closely at her as though he'd be able to read the truth right off her face. "Okay," he said after a moment, his carefree smile returning.

Mavis breathed a sigh of relief; oh how easy it must be to be a child and be so gullible.

"So what's next," she asked Jacob as she straightened up, "There's another door back near that other Observation room that I don't believe you showed me."

"That's the Life Support room," Jacob replied.

"I take it that's another one of those rooms you don't want me wandering around loose in, huh?"

"It would be best if we didn't go to any technical rooms."

Mavis rolled her eyes, "Alright, then where are you taking me?"

"Let's head to the elevator," Jacob led them back towards the middle of the hall. He opened up the elevator and ushered them inside. "Generally, the Combat information Center—you can call it the CIC for short—normally it's for crew only. However," he said as the doors closed and the elevator smoothly glided upwards, "Commander Shepard recently allowed some leniency to that rule at the request of our pilot. He, uh, he likes to talk with Mikhail."

A thought occurred to Mavis, "Hey wait a minute. That woman—Patel?—said something about some people in engineering. Daniels and Donnelly? Mikhail told me a day or two ago that he had met them before," she frowned, "How come he was allowed down there and I'm not?"

"Mikhail visited engineering while under Garrus' supervision," Jacob stated disapprovingly, "He's more lax in his opinion of the rules, but I believe it isn't safe to have civilians near such important and potentially dangerous controls."

Mavis cocked an eyebrow, "But you're letting me on the upper deck despite that," she pointed out.

Jacob stared straight ahead. "Joker would just keep bugging me if I didn't," he said finally.

Before Mavis could comment on that remark, the elevator came to a sudden halt.

"We're here," Jacob said.

The doors opened and Mavis found herself staring into one massive room. The walls were covered with buttons and consoles. The whole room was lit up with glowing tracks of light along the walkways and shining from lights in the support beams lining the walls. But the most amazing thing was the giant console in the center of the room. An orange holographic model of a starship hover just inches over the middle of it.

"Is that what this ships looks like from the outside?" she asked Jacob excitedly.

Jacob nodded, "That's it."

Mavis' gaze returned to the console. A platform of some sort led up to a little observation deck overlooking a big luminous swirling mass. It was a map of some kind of a…galaxy? A nebula? She wasn't sure but it twinkled tantalizingly in front of her, only a few feet away.

"This is so cool," Mavis murmured, letting go of Mikhail's hand and stepping forward.

A hand on her shoulder held her back. "I'd prefer if you didn't mess around with that."

"Commander," Jacob greeted.

Shepard grinned merrily at them. She turned to Mavis, an eyebrow raised, "Sorry," she said, hand still on Mavis' shoulder, "But no one is allowed up at the star map but me. You know," she waggled her eyebrows, "Commander special privilege."

"Can I go up there?" a wide eyed Mikhail asked, tugging on Shepard's pant leg, "Please?"

Shepard chuckled, crouching down to Mikhail's level, "If the answer was no yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, what makes you think it is going to be a yes this time?"

"Because I said please this time," Mikhail stated assuredly.

Shepard smirked, "Try asking again tomorrow," she said, ruffling his hair, "now why don't you go say hi to the rest of the crew?"

Mikhail nodded and scurried off around the console.

Shepard watched him leave before turning to Mavis, "So how goes the tour?" she asked.

"It's incredible," Mavis answered honestly, "I've never seen anything like it," she caught herself, shaking her head embarrassedly, "I mean, I don't think I have. You never know…I might have, but I don't remember, I—," she sighed, "You know what I mean."

Shepard nodded, "I get it. So," she motioned for Mavis to follow her, approaching a familiar redhead, "I've got to say you are pretty lucky. Not too many people are allowed up here but we made an exception."

"Yeah Jacob mentioned that," Mavis said, gesturing to the man at her side, "why is that?"

"Because of him," Shepard jerked a thumb at Mikhail, talking excitedly with Kelly and waving at the smiling crew passing by, "The first time he was pretty persistent about seeing this place. The kid was bummed out and we thought 'hey what could it hurt?' After that," Shepard gave Mavis a half hearted smile. "A lot of these guys have families, have kids," she explained gesturing to the crew sympathetically, "working here, well, they don't get to see them unless they get shore leave and even then not everyone's families live in places they can easily visit during their brief time off. I think its nostalgic to be around Mikhail; gives them a little bit of home to have a kid running around."

"I guess that makes sense," Mavis agreed, thinking of Rolston a deck down staring at a picture of that baby girl, "It must get lonely to be away from their families." _'But it must be nice to at least know you have one,'_ she thought wistfully _._

Shepard observed her closely. "Hey," she bumped shoulders with the woman, "I see the gears turning in your head; don't go getting all down and soul searchy on me. Come on," she coaxed, "let's go show Kelly that you're finally up and walking."

"Kelly," Shepard called out, "You've got a visitor,"

"Commander," Kelly greeted warmly, turning away from a chattering Mikhail. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Mavis, "You're walking!" she exclaimed, "That's wonderful. How are you?"

"I'm good," Mavis replied. She stretched, working the kinks out of her neck. "A little stiff, but no worse for wear."

"Are you—?" she cut a glance at their audience.

Shepard got the message right away, clearing her throat and tilting her head at Jacob, catching his attention. With a nod at each other, Jacob walked off with Mikhail and Shepard headed for her private console, giving the pair some privacy.

Once they were far enough away, Kelly turned back to Mavis, "Are you feeling any better today," she asked gently.

Mavis stiffened up. She really didn't want to go down this path right now. "A little," she replied, "Yeah, I'm…I'm doing okay; great actually. In fact," she said quickly changing the subject, "I'm pretty much blown away by this whole ship thing."

"Oh are you?" Kelly said with a smile, seeing through Mavis' distraction but taking the bait anyway, "anything in particular that you've enjoyed seeing?"

Mavis nodded eagerly, "The observation decks," she said, "especially the Port. It looks so comfy in there. I think I'd live there if given the chance."

Kelly grinned, "Well maybe we'll have a next session in there," she offered, "so that you'll feel more comfortable."

Mavis thought it over, "I'd like that," she said slowly.

That seemed to make Kelly happy, "Then consider it done. I look forward to our next appointment. Now," she patted Mavis' shoulder and gave her a little push towards Jacob, "go have fun," she said encouragingly.

"A-alright," Mavis stepped away from her with a hesitant little wave and approached her tour guide.

"Shall we continue?" Jacob asked when she got close.

Mavis nodded, "Yeah," she said, allowing Mikhail to cuddle up to her side again, "Let's go."

"You two go on," Shepard told them, walking up to give Mavis a pat on the back, "I need to stop by the Mess hall for a bite to eat before I get back to work. This ship doesn't command itself."

Jacob saluted her, "Understood."

Shepard gave him a bemused look, "At ease, soldier," she teased, walking towards the elevator.

When she was gone Jacob turned his focus back to Mavis and Mikhail. "I'm sure Mikhail would like you to meet our pilot," he surmised.

Mikhail nodded eagerly, "Yeah!" He bounced up and down, "Let's go see him."

"I think I'm up for that," Mavis agreed.

Jacob nodded, leading them to the bridge.

"You'll like Joker," Mikhail assured as they moved along.

Mavis smiled kindly down at him, "I'm sure I will." She paused, "Um…Joker's a human, right?" she asked warily, leaning towards Jacob.

Jacob nodded.

"Just checking."

"Hey, Joker," Jacob approached a large chair in an area surrounded with glowing, blinking consoles, "Mikhail's back."

"Great," the chair spun around and a bearded man sat before them, hat pulled low on his head causing him to have to lean back to look up at them. "It was starting to get lonely up here without our little mascot." He noticed the new face in front of him, "And you must be Mavis, right? Glad to see you up on your feet."

"Nice to meet you, Joker," Mavis said, offering her hand.

Joker didn't get up to meet her halfway. "I'd stand up," he said, "but getting out of this chair isn't easy once you sit down in it."

' _Weird,'_ "O-oh, okay," Mavis stepped closer and reached out more.

Joker took her hand this time. Rather than shaking it though, he pulled her closer and leaned forward, "Wow," he said, looking her up and down.

"What?"

"You're more messed up than I thought," he said bluntly.

"…I beg your pardon?"

"I mean, your injuries," Joker amended, releasing her hand and waving his own at her bandages, "I know they brought you in extra crispy, but I didn't think they'd have to go the whole mummy route on you."

"Uh…" Mavis wasn't sure how to response to that. Suddenly she felt a lot more self conscious about her appearance, "Um…I'm sorry; _extra crispy?"_

"You were a burnt French fry," Joker elaborated tactlessly. He didn't seem the least bit fazed by her reaction.

"I…uh..that's," Mavis stammered, "why would you…?"

Joker grinned, "Hey, it's not like there's anything wrong with French fries," he stated casually, leaning back in his chair, "heck even Shepard's been a French fry before. You've got something in common."

"…What?"

"She hasn't told you that story," Joker questioned, "Okay so it's like this. Two years ago—,"

Jacob cleared his throat, "Perhaps we should change the subject," he suggested.

"Sure," Joker smirked, "So Mavis, I hear you've got a fear of Aliens. Have you've screamed at Mordin yet? Or was Garrus the only one with the honor to have a bedpan thrown at him?"

"Joker," Jacob warned.

Joker held his hands up, "Oh come on, its hilarious. I wish I could have seen it." He took in the stern expression on Jacob's face and coughed, "Hey I'm just teasing. She's never going to get used to it if everyone tip toes around the subject.

Take it from me, don't let these guys handle you with kid gloves," he told Mavis, "It'll just make it harder for you to get used to things and it will take a hell of a lot longer to handle it on your own. You'll have to face some aliens sooner or later. Hey would it help if you pictured Garrus in his underwear?"

Mavis was stunned, "Why would I do that?!"

Joker shrugged, "Well isn't a person less intimidating when you see them with their pants down? It makes them less scary that way. Then again," he scratched his chin, "I guess that would depend on who it is you are seeing. Not sure I would want to see a Krogan in their tighty whities; now _that_ would be pretty scary."

Mavis placed her hands over Mikhail's ears. This really wasn't a conversation he needed to hear, the last thing she needed was him going around asking members of the crew what their underwear looked like. "Uh…"

Joker didn't pay her any mind, "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen Garrus in his underwear. I've seen Shepard and Kaiden—strip poker; long story—but Garrus hardly ever takes off his armor. It makes you wonder if he's hiding something…"

"Not to interrupt but is it really that important that you know that?" Mavis asked.

Joker shrugged, "I'm just saying, you don't really know a guy until you've seen him in his underwear."

"Do you _want_ to see him in his underwear?" Mavis questioned.

"Not really, but it makes for some decent blackmail."

Mavis stared at him, "…You just say whatever pops into your head, don't you."

Joker shrugged, "Hey I spend most of my time up here by myself," he said, "Why bother with a verbal filter?"

"You're one strange little man."

Joker placed a hand over his heart with a pout, "I kid, you hurt," he joked, feigning hurt. "So let me give you the grand tour. This," he spread his arms out, spinning around in his chair, "is my baby. This is where the magic happens. You can't fly this ship without me."

"I see," Mavis said. She looked over at a large glowing ball to the pilot's left, "and what's that."

"Oh that," Joker rolled his eyes, looking at it disdainfully, "that's the interloper." He huffed, "It's a lousy backseat driver, is what it is."

"I assure you Mr. Moreau," a familiar voice came from the orb, "it is not my intent to challenge your capabilities."

"Hey, I thought I turned the volume off on you," Joker accused, jabbing a finger at it.

Mavis regarded the glowing sphere curiously, "EDI?"

Joker groaned, "I see you've already met." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hello, Mavis" EDI greeted serenely.

"Uh, hi," Mavis returned, walking over to EDI, "So you're up here too?"

Mikhail pointed at the sphere excitedly, "She's everywhere, Mavis! Isn't that cool?"

"Yeah," Mavis agreed absentmindedly, grasping Mikhail's curious hands in her own before they reached the glowing AI.

"I am accessible from many locations on the ship as is needed, Mavis" the AI explained, "In order to assist Mr. Moreau, one of my main access points is here in the bridge."

"Not that I need your assistance," Joker muttered.

Mavis narrowed her eyes. "Waaaaaaaait…" she began, looking back and forth between Joker and EDI, "Am I getting this right? Are you…jealous of this thing?"

"It's not like that," Joker claimed, rolling his eyes, "There's nothing to be jealous of, I _know_ no one can fly this ship better than me. I know what I am capable of and proud of it. I just don't appreciate having a backseat driver talking my ear off with _advice_ ," he made quotations marks around the last word, "on how I should be doing things. It's like taking driving lessons with your mom; they think they know everything!"

Mavis gave Joker a knowing look, a cheeky grin sliding over her face. "You're jealous," she stated matter of factly.

Mikhail watched the exchange with avid attention. Following Mavis' example, he looked at Joker and nodded affirmatively.

"Oh I'm sorry," Joker quipped sarcastically, a slight trace of a grin tweaking the corner of his mouth, "This coming from the girl who nearly pissed herself meeting a Turian?! Who's the one with bigger issues here; me or the xenophobe?"

"I'm not a xenophobe!" Mavis declared, crossing her arms stubbornly. She frowned, "…Whatever that is…" she muttered unsurely.

"Afraid of aliens," Jacob supplied helpfully.

"I am not!" Mavis insisted furiously, stamping her feet like a spoiled child.

"Really?" Joker asked skeptically. He leaned forward in his seat, "So you're saying if I were to call Garrus up here right now, you'd be fine with meeting him? Maybe strike up a conversation with him? Have a drink, maybe?" His finger hovered over a button on his console sinisterly, "Care to prove me wrong?"

Mavis eyed the button warily, "…I…" Could she call Joker on his bluff? Was it a bluff? She really didn't want to run the risk of bumping into the Turian anytime soon. She wasn't ready yet. She thought about the day in the Med bay, his gray complexion, those claw-like hands—were they really as sharp as she remembers?—she shuddered. No, she really, really didn't want to talk to him right now. But she didn't want to let Joker have the last word either. After all she had been through in the past few days, she'd be damned if she was going to let a stranger call her a scaredy- cat. "I…"

Joker watched her smugly. "Weeeell?" he drawled out, fingers wagging tauntingly over the button.

"I, uh…well, I" She needed a way out. She needed a distraction, "That is to say…" what could she do?

She whipped around on Jacob suddenly, pointing at him spastically, "The word 'bowels' makes Jacob uncomfortable!" she exclaimed wildly.

Joker sat there stunned for a moment, "What?" a rather 'cat-got-the-canary' grin oozed across his face.

"Seriously?" Jacob exasperated, staring at Mavis with a rather unimpressed look.

Mavis waved her hands helplessly, "Don't give me that look! It was either you or me who could get thrown under the bus," she reasoned, "You and I hardly know each other; it was no contest." She glared at him, "Admit it, you would have done the same thing."

Jacob resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead settled for staring rather bored at the wall just to the left of Mavis, "Whatever you say."

"Hey, let's stay on track," Joker snapped his fingers, regaining their attention, "We're not done here." He leaned forward even more and propped his elbows up on his knees, cupping his hands in his face and smiling innocently up at them. Well, it was probably _meant_ to be innocent, but the look he was giving them was nothing short of deviously elated; like a cat in a room full of flightless birds, "I want to hear more about Jacob's little pet peeve."

"I wouldn't call it a pet peeve," Jacob dismissed flippantly.

"Oh but I think it is."

"Well on that note," Mavis said merrily, "I think I'll take Mikhail and get to know some of the crew members on this deck," she pointed towards the people around the star map.

"You aren't supposed to wander around the upper levels—,"

"I just be over here, Jacob," Mavis assured him, "Kelly will keep me in order I'm sure. You have nothing to worry about. I'll still be in clear view of you." She lightly placed her hands on Mikhail's shoulder and guided him back towards the star map, edging out of the bridge slowly like her pace of speed would ensure Jacob of her harmless intentions, "We'll just, you know, give you guys some time to hash this little thing out."

"I don't think—"

Mavis waved him off, "It'll be fine. Nice meeting you, Joker," she added, "Maybe we'll talk again later."

Joker grinned, "Looking forward to it. There's still a few more days until we reach the Citadel. Drop by when you feel like being outwitted again."

Mavis stuck her tongue out at him, "You didn't outwit me. It wasn't even a battle of wits, you were just being snarky. And we changed the subject so there was no clear cut winner."

"Whatever you say, Mavis."

"Um…talk to you later, EDI," Mavis threw out awkwardly, glancing at the AI hovering glowingly by the consoles, "I guess."

"Goodbye, Mavis," EDI replied cordially.

"So what other words don't you like," Mavis heard Joker ask Jacob eagerly as she and Mikhail departed, "Pulp? Phlegm? Vomit? Or Puke? How about nugget? Scrotal? Ooh, or secretions!"

Jacob sighed heavily.

"Moist?"

"…you know that word actually does bother me."

"I know, right?!" Joker exclaimed.

Mavis snorted, "Such an enlightening discussion," she mused sarcastically.

Mikhail hummed happily besides her. "Isn't Joker funny?" he asked.

Mavis smiled, "He's an odd one, but I admit I think he could grow on me. There'd never be a dull moment around him, I'm sure." She looked over her shoulder at the pair conversing in the bridge, "I might have even stayed to talk to him longer but I honestly wanted a few minutes alone without being watched like a hawk. That Jacob guy, he's too serious," she knew she probably shouldn't be talking about Jacob behind his back in front of Mikhail, but she couldn't help it, "I'm practically invalid and he's acting like I'm going to single handedly highjack the ship or something. What's up with that?" Once she started she couldn't stop. It was like verbal diarrhea…

" _Diarrhea!_ That's another word I can't stand!"

Mavis turned to Joker apprehensively. Had she said that out loud? She shook it off, that had to be one freaky, though amusing coincidence.

"Anyway," Mavis said slowly, lowering her voice some, "Jacob probably means well but the guy really needs to relax a little," another glance at the bridge, "though I suppose Joker might be helping him with that now. Who knows? The guy is too uptight."

Mikhail giggled, "He doesn't like saying bowels."

Mavis cringed, "Don't say that word, Mickey."

"Why not?"

"Because it's icky," Mavis stated, "hearing it from someone else it does sound unpleasant."

"But you said it before," Mikhail pointed out.

"Yeah well I am beginning to notice I might be a bit of a hypocrite," Mavis drawled, "Hey, another thing I learned about myself," she grinned at the little boy.

They wandered back over to Kelly, the woman looking up from her console and beaming at them as they approached.

She took in the pair, no doubt noticing the absence of Jacob by their side, "Taking a break from the tour?"

"More like taking a break from surveillance," Mavis replied, pointing back to where Joker and Jacob were still locked in conversation, "does that guy ever smile? Like genuinely smile? Getting him to warm up to me is like pulling teeth."

Kelly regarded Mavis with amusement, her eyes darting to Jacob and back again. "Jacob is a very...dedicated man when it comes to his work. I think he is too hard on himself sometimes, pushes himself too hard. As for his personality, once he gets to know someone and trust them he really lightens up. I've heard him joking with the Commander before. He's got himself an amusing sense of humor if you can believe it."

"I don't," Mavis said flatly, "but I'll have to take your word for it. It's not like he's opening up to me so it's not like I can experience his charms first hand."

"Did you at least have fun talking to Joker?" Kelly asked, "He's generally more friendly than most."

"If you call endless sarcasm and too personal questions friendly," Mavis quipped. She ran a hand through her hair, being careful not to snag on her bandages, "But yeah, I guess the guy is pretty cool. I mean he at least didn't treat me like a crime suspect," she rolled her eyes, thinking of Jacob's eyes on her at every move she made, "He treated me like a regular person, which I appreciate. He didn't try and handle me like I'm made of glass; god, is that annoying. I can't take a step without someone looking at me like I'm going to keel over or snap or something. I hate being treated like some sort of invalid or mental patient being poked and prodded at—oh," Mavis faltered, remembering who she was talking to, "Not that you do that or anything."

Kelly frowned but nodded, "Its fine," she said understandingly.

"Really, I didn't mean it like that."

"I get it," Kelly assured her, "It's understandable that you would want some space. We all do from time to time."

Mavis smiled gratefully, "Seriously though, I honestly do appreciate all you've been doing for me. Really I do—," out of the corner of her eye, the elevator opened, and who or what stepped out had what she wanted to say catching in her throat.

It was another alien, different from Garrus. He was skinny, ridiculously so, and tall too. His limbs were long and gangly and his legs below the knee curved backwards at an unusual manner, haunches almost. It almost seemed like his legs bent backwards rather than forwards if he walked. His chest had a concave appearance to it, hollowed out with his shoulders pushed forward under his clothes. It was his face that really stood out though. His eyes were massive, big black pools set wide on a wrinkled, mottled canvas of peach and brown colored skin. There weren't any pupils to make out as far as she could tell, the large dark orbs circled by an orange hue of skin. His long face was blemished with a scar or two, one in particular stood out just under his left eye, a carved out X among the accumulation of wrinkles and weather-worn creases.

Kelly noticed the lull in conversation, Mavis' attention elsewhere. "Mavis?" she began, "What's wrong." She followed Mavis gaze to the elevator and she tensed. "Oh…um, Mordin," she stepped towards the alien or rather she backed away from Mavis towards him, "what are you doing up here?" she inquired without looking at him, her eyes never leaving Mavis face.

Mikhail looked up at Mavis worriedly, a frown marring his usually cheerful face. He was waiting for the chaos to break out probably, like it had with Garrus.

Mordin looked at Kelly and Mikhail briefly before turning his attention to Mavis. "Patient Mavis," he acknowledged, his expression unreadable, "Was not intending to see you up here, our meeting unexpected. Was not alerted to your leaving of the Medical bay, EDI did not inform me…was looking for Shepard, not planning on seeking you out so soon. Was waiting for Yeoman Chambers to arrange supervised meeting in order to gauge stress levels around non-human life." He spoke very fast, his words littered with many unnecessary breaks and pauses.

Mavis mouth worked wordlessly, rendered speechless. It only partially occurred to her that she was clutching Mikhail's shoulders with white knuckled hands, the boy held out in front of her almost like a shield. Some part of her mind took shame in her cowardice and she distractedly pulled Mikhail behind her.

"Suppose it can't be helped," Mordin continued, "Too late for precaution now; already met face to face. Not first time seeing you…was involved in treatment of burns," he brought up his omni-tool, "skin damage substantial, chances of scarring extremely high. Was planning to do further evaluations after initial meeting, to better assess extent of long term damage."

He approached her only for Mavis to back away from him.

' _What is he?'_ Mavis thought frantically. She was positive Mikhail had mentioned someone named Mordin before, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what he had called his species. _'Do they all look like him and Garrus? I just…I can't…he's looking right at me. It's like he can smell my fear. Does he even have a nose?!'_ Mordin blinked and Mavis was appalled to see a film like eyelid of some sort come up from the bottom of his eye rather than the top. Up close he was almost amphibious-like. He reached his hand out to her, intending to scan her with the omni-tool and she recoiled from his touch, nearly tripping over Mikhail in the process.

Kelly rushed to her side to steady her, "Mordin," she said, "perhaps you can run your test some other time. Mavis," she turned to the girl at her side, holding her up as Mavis' knees wobbled and threatened to buckle, "This is Dr. Mordin Solus. He's a Salarian; we told you about Salarians, remember?" She squeezed Mavis shoulder, talking to her like she would a frightened child, "He's the one who treated your injuries. He saved your life. There's no reason to be afraid of him. He won't hurt you." She glanced at Mordin looking for some support.

Mordin stepped back a little, hoping the distance between them would reassure Mavis. "Was not intending to offend," he stated, "Only wished to ensure you were in good health. Injuries quite severe, would like to avoid infection and scarring if possible. Recovery process could prove uncomfortable otherwise, wished to prevent discomfort and further risk to your health." He inhaled deeply, "Skin grafts delicate matter, must be monitored closely. Only had your best interests in mind."

"See?" Kelly said, "He's worried about you. He's cares about all his patients. Mikhail likes him," she turned to the little boy, "Don't you Mikhail?"

Mikhail nodded, "Yeah," he said, stepping out from behind Mavis. Mavis made an aborted move to block him with her arm to keep him and the Doctor apart, a strangled gasp escaping out of her mouth, but Kelly held her tight.

"Mordin helped me with my arm," Mikhail explained, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a large disfigured bruise just under the surface of his skin, "and he unfroze me. He had an ant-an anti—,"

"Antidote," Mordin supplied, "to the paralysis."

"Yeah," Mikhail nodded. He rounded on Mavis, looking at her pleadingly, "He's one of the good guys!" he exclaimed excitably, "they all are," he threw his hands out wide gesturing to the passing crew members pretending not to notice the exchange unfolding near them.

Heavy, hurried footsteps sounded behind Mavis. With it came Jacob's voice. "Doctor Solus," the man walked up to them, looking between Mavis and Mordin, "I see you two have met," he said apprehensively, "Is everything alright."

"Everything's fine," Kelly informed him, more for Mavis sake than anything else, "We're fine," she repeated, still holding onto Mavis. She tucked a stray stand of hair behind Mavis' ear, "Everything is okay. Just meeting new people is all."

Jacob took in Mavis pale complexion and stiff posture, her eyes locked firmly on Mordin, "I think the tour is over for now," Jacob stated.

Kelly sighed, "I suppose that's for the best." She patted Mavis shoulder and rubbed her hand on her back comfortingly, "We'll talk later, Mavis okay? Maybe next time we can get to know Mordin a little. We'll take it slow; whatever you feel comfortable with."

She offered a hand to Mikhail and gently guided him and Mavis towards the elevator, cautiously side stepping Mordin, Jacob close behind. As they passed, Mavis followed Mordin with her eyes, not breaking eye contact and looking over her shoulder at him as she walked rigidly towards the elevator.

Jacob ushered her into the elevator, "Maybe some other time, Dr. Solus," he offered.

Mordin gave a curt nod, "Of course. Perhaps now not the best time for examination. Would not want to cause distress. Will be looking forward to meeting her again soon."

Mavis made no acknowledgment that she had heard him, still staring transfixed at him wordlessly.

Jacob stepped into her line of vision. He rested one hand against the frame of the doorway, leaning his weight against it, "Well, that could have gone better," he muttered.

Kelly grimaced, "It went better than with Garrus," she pointed out helpfully.

Jacob sighed, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the crew deck, "Not by much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to constantly look up info on the ship to get this chapter down. Man I wish I had the game right now so I could just run around the place and reaffirm on knowledge of it.
> 
> So not that much going on in this chapter except some screentime for Jacob and Joker (both of which are so much fun to write). I hope I got their personalities right. Jacob always struck me as so serious with all his saluting and the fact that you can find footage of him doing pushups when know one is around, but his humor was also such an interesting side of him. I could see him having a lot of begrudging fun with Joker and his own wacky humor. And yes, the word bowels is unpleasant. As is Moist. *shudders*
> 
> Sorry for the slow goings here. I will be giving the other characters some focus soon and I want to move along with Mavis integration into an alien populated society.
> 
> Review keep sustain me and are delicious. Please feed me :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I do make no profit from posting this, blah, blah, blah yep I'm still doing the whole disclaimer thing, call me paranoid, but I feel like I have my bases covered doing this.
> 
> And for another thing you have seen here countless times before, like with all my other chapters, this one is un-beta'd , so if you see any spelling mistakes, improper word usages, etc, please do not hesitate to inform me. I'm still looking for a beta and would be eternally grateful if someone could point me in the right direction to finding one or could recommend one to me.

* * *

 

Everyone was running, dozens upon dozens of urgent and frantic people rushing by in a blur. Sparks of electricity sprinkled from the ceiling lights in an electric rain and everything was bathed in an eerie red glow as the emergency lights kicked in. The blaring of alarms overpowered the endless cries of panic they made as they fled; the shrill shrieks of dismay and harsh shouts of authority among their superiors. There was no time to stop for those who fell in the initial blast, bodies burnt and battered so much that it would be best to pray that they were surely dead; it would be a mercy at this point.

She needed to get to the bridge. She had to. If there was one thing she knew about her pilot, it was that he was stubborn and it was going to take nothing if not a swift kick in the ass to keep him from going down with the ship.

"I can't leave without you!" the beauty before her pleaded, the ominous gleaming red of the flashing lights tainting the ethereal azure splendor of her skin a purple hue. Her lips trembled and her eyes were glassy, but the gaze inside those sapphire orbs was hard, determined if not beseeching, "If you stay, I stay."

"I'm not giving you a choice here!" her voice was nothing more than a snarl as she gripped the Asari roughly by the arms, dragging her towards the exit, "I'm not about to let you stay here like a dumbass and get yourself killed for me." She released her arm and shoved her forward roughly, "Get to the escape pods, that's an order," she barked, "NOW!"

Her startled companion stared at her for a moment, her gaze wavering. Finally, hesitantly, she backed away before turning on her heel and darting from the room.

She watched the Asari's retreating form and felt her face crumple as the she disappeared from sight. "I'll be right behind you, Liara," she whispered, "I promise."

Mayhem was unfolding all around her every which way she looked. She weaved her way through the escaping throngs of crewmen, paying no mind to the occasional shove or push, the jab of a careless elbow or a knock by a shoulder. She fought against the current of the panicked crowd. Once or twice she passed by someone who's helmet wasn't properly secured and she found herself jerking them to the side without thinking, —"have you forgotten basic training?!"— and adjusting the necessary clips and snaps before practically throwing them back into the flow of traffic. She grabbed at fallen comrades before they could be trampled in the hysteria and pulled them to their feet, urging them on.

"To the escape pods!" She hollered over the shrill screams of the alarms, "Everybody move. Now damn it!"

The elevator was out of commission, the doors smashed and crushed into the frame and charred in by the flames that broke out in one of the ensuing electrical surges. She would have to take the stairs if she was going to reach Joker in time.

She leaped over some fallen debris as she passed the wrecked elevator only to stop short and nearly trip over her own feet when she noticed just exactly what was on the ground before her.

A man was splayed across the floor in front of her. His face was ashen and bruised; his eyes unseeing and glazed, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. His limbs were splayed like that of a broken toy, one arm bent up under him and the other out to the side, the same direction his head was turned, as though he had been reaching for something in his final moments, like the sorry bastard's death was not mercifully instantaneous.

She knew this man; she never forgot a face. Robert, she believed his first name was. Robert Felawa. He had been relatively new to the crew when the whole debacle with the geth unfolded. A good man, he never got a chance to really live up to his potential. Now he never would.

He wasn't alone though. Kneeling besides him in transfixed horror was a pale faced man. Tear tracks smeared his face as his hand hovered over Robert's outstretched one, reaching but afraid to touch.

"Marcus," she called softly, "It's time to go". There was no time to mourn the dead. There could be no proper burial or tribute to the fallen if they didn't live long enough to see to it.

"He was right here," Marcus whispered brokenly, "Just a few minutes ago. Everything was fine and he was right here. H-he's not here anymore." He leaned over and carefully lowered Robert's eyelids, hiding his vacant stare from view. He adjusted his head, the shifting of broken bone just under the surface of skin sickening enough to make ones stomach churn.

"He's not here…" Marcus repeated. His hand fingered a set of dog tags dangling from his neck. Robert's; they were wearing each other's tags.

The ship lurched and a piercing squeal of metal split the air, causing her to wince as she fought to stay on her feet.

"Marcus," she called again, righting herself, "There's no time, we have to go," she pleaded, "go join the others."

Marcus didn't seem to hear her, still staring unblinkingly at the still body on the ground. He ran a thumb over Robert's cheek and gingerly smoothed a strand of hair away from his face.

"I gave you and order!"

"Go get Joker," his voice was soft, devoid of emotion, defeated, "You know he won't leave unless you force him."

"I…but you can't just—,"

"You're running out of time," Marcus stated, "he can't make it to the escape pods on his own."

She gaped at him, lost.

"Go," he whispered, arranging Robert's arms over his chest and adjusting his crooked neck once more, "I'll be fine."

She hesitated to leave him; she couldn't just walk away from him like this, but then another squeal of tearing metal shot through the hull and shook her to her core.

"Mayday!" a voice resonated from the ceiling, "Mayday. This is the SSV Normandy. Damn it! Can anyone hear me out there?! Respond!" A burst of static followed his voice and then the sound fizzled out into silence.

"Joker!" she cried, looking towards the ceiling and back, her eyes darting towards the stairs. "Go join the others," she ordered Marcus. She toed around Robert's corpse and raced towards the elevator.

She leapt towards the stairwell and had to pry the doors open, the locking mechanism damaged and fighting to stay closed. As she stepped inside, she spared one last glance at Marcus and was dismayed to find him taking off his dog tags and placing them gingerly in Robert's clasped hands before lying down beside him.

That scene would be burned into her mind till the day she died.

But she didn't have time for that now, Joker needed her, whether he was going to admit it or not.

She reached the top of the stairs and as the doors slid open, she choked on a moment of panic as her feet suddenly left the ground. Hastily slamming on the magnetic feature on her suit, she made a mad scramble for the wall and guided herself back down towards the floor. She breathed a sigh a relief when she was firmly planted on the ground again but what she saw when she looked up practically stole the air right out of her lungs.

The ceiling was gone. There was hardly anything left from where it once was aside from a few broken shards of metal and twisted rafters laden with hanging, sparking wires.

Gleaming almost dreamily from where it hung in the sky, the moon—was it the moon? Or some planet about to play host to the Normandy's final resting place—peered down upon the mangled remains of the bridge. It was so gargantuan and massive it almost looked like it had broken through the interior of the ship itself, so vast and mammoth it took up the entire sky. It blanketed the ship in a soft, tranquil glow offset by the pinkish hue it made of the still blinking lights. It was caught somewhere between a beautiful dream and a haunting nightmare, too picturesque too turn away from but still everything about the fantastical view seemed so…wrong, so irreparable. Random bits of scrap and shattered console systems floated lazily by in slow motion as she stood there in the unforgiving silence of her once pristine ship, the no longer glorious Normandy.

Her hand brushed the railing around the center console—when had she moved towards it?—and gazed down on the smashed monitors and shapeless craters. The lifeless body of one of her fallen crewmembers was pinned facedown beneath a heap of bolted metal and plating and another, more familiar face drifted by in the now gravity-free vacuum of space.

"Pressly…"

The once skeptical and bullheaded Executive Officer was now a frail, unmoving mockery of his former self. A scorch mark streaked across one side of his face in an angry, enflamed welt. It ended just under his chin and the collar of his uniform was burnt and eaten away, presumably by the flames that had marred his skin.

His face was devoid of pain though, unlike the twisted or shocked expression of some of his former collegues strewn about the wreckage. No, instead his face was relaxed, slack even, his features betraying nothing but an almost peaceful expression. It was almost as if he were simply sleeping. As she stared at him a part of her half expected; almost hoped for him to wake up at any minute and teasingly berate her for not keeping her crew in check.

She found herself impulsively reaching out for him, reaching for his limp hand, but her fingers skimmed the air as he floated just out of her reach. Distressed, she swiped furiously through the air; leaning precariously over the console railing stretching her arm out as far as it would go. In the end, all she succeeded in doing was catching her finger on his dog tags, snapping the chain before it too glided away.

Tears stung her eyes and suddenly the ghostly light of the moon was nothing more than a masquerading lie of tranquility, so innocent in its looming splendor as everything she had achieve and strove for, everything and everyone who had become a part of who she was, crumbled to ruin around her.

She tore herself away from the railing and charged towards the cockpit. She stumbled once or twice, dodging chairs spinning through the air and tripping over corpses that she couldn't bring herself to look at, bile burning in her throat as the reality of what she was losing sunk in.

"Joker," she rasped out as she reached him, "Come on," she slumped against his chair, clapping a hand onto his shoulder and tugging, "We have to get out of here."

"No!" Joke snapped, hands still furiously flying over his console, "I won't abandon her. The Normandy…I can still save her."

"She's already dead, Joker!" She yelled, "And we will be too if we don't get the hell out of here now."

"No," Joker pleaded, "I can do this. We just have to…" his eyes flew to one of the panels in front of him. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, before snapping back in his seat, "…Oh no…"

"What?" She asked worriedly, "What is it?"

"They're coming around for another attack!" Joker shouted.

They barely had time to blink before the ship was showered with a firey cascade. It shot like a laser through the bridge and severed the structure in half in less than a minute.

She stumbled back towards Joker and seized his arm in a brutal grip, "We're out of time!"

"Ow!" Joker hissed, "Watch the arm."

"You can yell at me for it later," She told him, slinging his arm over her shoulder and dragging him from his chair, "For now I don't care if I break every bone in your body if that's what it takes to get you the fuck out of here."

Thank whatever powers above that there was an escape pod in the bridge; they never would have made it back downstairs.

She threw Joker inside, ignoring his grunts of discomfort as another blast rocked the ship. She lingered in the doorway too long though, and the sudden shift in balance sent her flying out of the pod and across the hollowed out bridge away from her salvation. She crashed against one of the remaining walls and bounced off of it like she was made of rubber.

"Commander!" Joker cried out frantically as she hung onto the ledge. He desperately reached for her, but his hand would never make it to her own.

The ship rattled violently again and a blast of fire knocked her off the ledge and into the air.

"Shepard!" Joker screamed as she hurtled out into the sky, "Reina!"

Over and over she tossed and turned through the air, flailing her limbs but find nothing to hang onto.

The ship exploded in a series of blazing combustions before climatically shattering apart in one final blinding inferno, the sheer force of it thrusting her through space like a bullet out of a gun.

Her momentum slowed and then it was just her alone. A hissing noise dominated the sound of her fevered breathing and she realized in horror that her oxygen line had been pierced, leaking at an alarming rate. Frantically, she scrabbled at the back of her suit but it was a fruitless effort she couldn't stop the steady stream of air; she might as well have been trying to force toothpaste back in the tube for all her efforts. Her air rapidly thinning, in her panic she continuously switched between holding her breath to ration her remaining air and gulping greedily whatever breaths she had left. As her lungs tightened and shriveled in her chest, her consciousness began to fade and she was left barely panting out her final bit of life as she spun and twisted farther and farther away from the only life she'd known. The sun began to crest over the surface of the planet below her in an amber streak as she plummeted towards her inevitable grave and she laughed, a dizzyingly amused, near hysterical part of her thinking she had never seen a more beautiful yet heartbreaking sight.

As her heart seized up and the beginning hints of searing pain set in from her approaching descent in the planet's atmosphere, she almost thought she could still hear Joker screaming her name…

* * *

 

Shepard shot up in bed, panting heavily. Her vision was still blurry from sleep and it hurt to breathe, her lungs aching like she had just run a triathlon.

"Shit."

She wiped a hand across her face and smoothed back her hair moist with perspiration and plastered to her forehead. Doused in a cold sweat—soaked clean through to her nightshirt—her skin felt clammy and she grasped at her throat, smacking her lips only to find her mouth devoid of spit and her tongue dry as the Sahara.

Wheezing, she tossed aside her bed sheets and made her way to the bathroom on shaky legs. Stumbling to the sink she fumbled hastily with the faucet and submerged her hands in a cold burst of water. She splashed her face with it, gasping at the chill as it clung to her eyelashes and the tip of her nose and ran along her cheeks to form dewdrops against her lips. She scanned the sink for a cup, scrabbling for the one holding her toothbrush and carelessly emptying its contents to let them clatter across the sink. Filling it up she all but threw the soothing liquid into her face and went to refill it again. She almost brought it to her lips for a drink but after a moment's hesitation she tossed the cup to the side, spilling it everywhere, before plunging forward and wedging her head under the running faucet. Like a thirsty dog, she lapped and gulped at the frigid tap, greedily relishing its descent down her parched throat.

"EDI," she croaked, pulling back to breathe, water droplets clinging to her hair and dripping from her chin, "EDI, what time is it?"

"It is twenty-two seconds after 3:31am, Shepard," came EDI's reply.

"Great," Shepard rasped sullenly, "Not even close to when I do my morning rounds." She crawled up onto the counter's ledge and leaned forward, pulling at the bags under her eyes in the mirror's reflection and dragging a hand across her face. Her nose stuffy with ick, she snorted and then cringed at the unpleasant slow molasses-like slide of it down the back of her throat. She really wished she hadn't thrown away that cup now.

"Your stress levels seem to be alarmingly high, Shepard," EDI informed her. There was almost a hint of concern in her computerized voice, "Do you require that Dr. Chakwas or Dr. Solus to be sent up to your cabin?"

Shepard sighed, "No," she breathed out, slumping forward on her side and pressing her face against the cold glass of the mirror, "No that's not necessary." She rubbed her cheek about the mirror much the same way a cat would and stared unfocusedly at the wall, eyes fixated but not really looking at a smudge on the wall, "I just need a moment to…to collect myself. I'm okay."

"If you insist, Shepard."

Shepard inhaled deeply through her nose a few times, shuddering out her exhales against the glass and leaving a cloudy fog to spread out over the surface until her face was mostly obscured from view. She felt her eyelids drooping and gave herself a shake. Lightly smacking herself, she pushed away from the mirror and turned her back to it. "Okay…I think I'm good now. That will be all for now, EDI."

"Logging you out, Shepard."

Shepard tipped her head back with a satisfying thunk, hanging onto the dull pain and grounding herself to it to stay awake. She gingerly slid off the counter and began a lazy trudge across the bathroom tiles in bare feet, pausing here or there to chase lint and dust bunnies across the floor with her toes.

She really didn't want to have to go back to sleep, that much she was sure of, the remnants of her dream ripping up old wounds and she had no desire pour salt on them by going back to sleep. The stiff, lifeless faces of her friends and comrades were etched into her mind and with every second that they remained at the forefront of her thoughts it sent an agonizing throb in her chest. There was no way she was going to sleep now.

A headache was beginning to blossom behind her eyes and she was in strong need of something to kill the sting and dull her memories.

"I need a drink," she sighed, shuffling over to her bedside cabinet. Rooting around in its confines turned out to be a wasted effort though, the only thing she had on hand being a bottle of some Batarian drink she had picked up on Omega after a particularly cocky and heady burst of confidence to have drank several glasses of it at the bar and lived. The rest of her usual stock was cleaned out; curse midnight poker games with Joker.

"I probably should go for something weaker," she muttered, "I'm not so far gone to be one of those strung out drunks that sit around in the dark at 3am getting wasted to thoughts of 'the good ol' days'." She glanced around her cabin, her eyes landing on the bed; she definitely didn't want to curl up in it at the moment.

"I guess I'll need to head down to the Observatory," she grumbled irritably, "it has a bar."

"Let's hope I don't bump into anyone along the way," she added, getting to her feet again and wandering out to the elevator, "Lord knows Mordin is probably up and about at this hour. I bet Salarians would live longer if they slept a lot more and thought a lot less." She snorted, "Or at least did things at a slower pace. Bah! What do I know about alien phyisocology? Ph-physiology? Biology? Proctology?" she giggled dizzily to herself then stopped, "What the fuck am I talking about? Am I already drunk?" She shook her head, "I must be more tired than I thought." She squinted at the buttons in the elevator, "And they really need to make these words bigger. You hear that EDI?" she called out hoarsely, "Make a note of that."

She got no reply.

"Fine, don't humor me."

Practically bumping her nose against the keypad, she tried to make out the labels on them before shrugging and pressing one at random, too tired to really consider the fact that there were only three or four floors to choose from in the first place and they were clearly listed in descending order; it wasn't rocket science.

When the elevator came to a halt, Shepard peered out into the hall and was pleased to find she had chosen the correct floor, the crew deck quiet. Cautiously she stepped out into the hall and took a quick survey of the deck. She could hear the footsteps of one of her crew making their security rounds through the mess hall, just far enough away to not hear her bare feet as she made a hasty exit towards the observatory.

Tiptoeing with such stealth that it would have been fitting to play the Mission Impossible theme song—got to love the classics—she hugged the wall and crept forward towards the door.

Just as she reached it, the door flew open unexpectedly and she was nearly head butted with a mass of red hair.

"Oh!" the Yeoman exclaimed, stumbling backwards. "Commander," she breathed a hand over her chest, "You startled me." She chanced a glance over her shoulder then turned back to Shepard, stepping fully into the hallway and letting the door close behind her.

"Kelly," Shepard stammered, straightening up in what she hoped was a more a casual and inconspicuous stance, "Good morning."

"Good morning indeed," Kelly replied, cocking an eyebrow, "I'm surprised to see you up this early."

"I was just…making my morning rounds." Shepard fibbed, "You know, for surveillance."

Kelly's eyebrow rose further if possible, her hip now jutting out as she regarded her commander doubtfully, "Still a little early for that don't you think?"

Shepard bit her lip, "Well you know, I thought a left my, uh, terminal on. You know," she pointed towards the ceiling, "Couldn't stop thinking about it, so I thought I might as well do some perimeter checks while I was at it."

Kelly crossed her arms amused, "So you went down from your cabin to the crew deck a floor below your terminal to do rounds _before_ attending to the terminal that kept you from sleeping?"

Shepard blanched, "How do you know I didn't check it before coming down here?" she back peddled.

"Commander."

Shepard sighed, "I had some trouble sleeping."

Kelly went from amused to sympathetic in an instant. "Want to talk about it?" she asked, stepping closer.

Shepard shook her head, "It's nothing. Just some bad dreams; nothing a night cap couldn't fix." She scratched her head, "Unfortunately my reserves are running slow; I blame Joker," she added wryly, "So I figured I'd take a trip down here for a quick drink."

"About that," Kelly took another glance behind her, "I think its best you don't go in there right now."

It was Shepard's turn to raise an eyebrow, cocking her head for good measure, "Why's that? In fact," she looked Kelly up and down, "Now that I think about it, isn't it a little early for you to be up also?" she asked, taking in Kelly's bedhead and rumpled sleepwear. "Why are you up?"

"You're not the only one having bad dreams," Kelly stated.

"Oh?"

"Chakwas called me about an hour or two ago," Kelly explained, "Mikhail hadn't been sleeping well. I thought he might feel more relaxed in the Observatory, away from all the medical smells and sterile environment. Just to talk; to see if he would be calmer."

"So he's in there now?" Shepard questioned.

Kelly nodded, "With Mavis. She sang him to sleep a few minutes ago. It seemed cruel to wake him up so I left them there." She grimaced, eyes downcast.

Shepard frowned, "Something on your mind, Kelly?"

Kelly thought about it for a minute, conflicted. "I can't go into it too much; that would be a violation of his privacy. It's just," she began, "Mikhail's struggling to cope with losing his parents. It's to be expected to be honest; I don't think anyone would handle it well. He's fine during the day when there's so much to distract him, but at night," she sighed sadly, "He's been sleeping in Mavis' bed since the day she woke up, but that hasn't stopped the nightmares. I'm worried about him; both of them."

"Both?"

"It was actually Mavis who woke Chakwas and told her to have me come down. But I…I don't think it was for necessarily for Mikhail."

"You think she lied about Mikhail's bad dreams?" Shepard asked skeptically.

Kelly shook her head, "No, I think they both are suffering from nightmares. Scratch that; I _know_ they both are. Mavis is…well she's still difficult to get to open up. She doesn't really want to talk too much about how she is handling all this since she was rescued. I know she's been dreaming about something, but she's been pretty tight lipped about most of it. Not sleeping enough can't be good for her recovery. I can't help her unless she talks to me though."

Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder, "You've been doing a great job with her so far," she assured her, "The best you can do for now is just be there for her. She'll talk when she's ready."

"I supposed you're right," Kelly agreed morosely, "Though it's been like pulling teeth so far. I am thankful to have her help with Mikhail, however. She has a real calming effect on him."

"You said she sang to him," Shepard recalled.

Kelly smiled, "Yeah, she actually has a nice voice. It soothes him; I often find her singing to him when they are together, teaching him new songs." Her smile lessened some, "She told me that she sang to him on Horizon, back when they were in the pantry," she clarified, "It's strange; she sings all these songs but she can't seem to recall where she knows them from or who taught them to her. They just…spring to mind when the occasion calls for it." She shrugged "I suppose it's a good thing, her memory is coming back in some form. But it must be so frustrating for her. Sometimes I catch her just looking off into the distance when she's singing. She almost looks sad, like she misses something but isn't sure what. And Katiana, the closest thing she had to stability was taken from in her in the first few minutes of meeting her and she must switch to being Mikhail's stability when she's still so unsure of how to take care of herself. It must be so hard on her."

"You're not going to do her or yourself any favors by stressing yourself out about this," Shepard stated, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"I know, I know," Kelly replied. She snorted, "Here you are offering me comfort when I'm sure you need it more than I do," she regarded Shepard knowingly, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about your dreams?"

Shepard looked away, uncomfortable. "I'm sure," she lied, "Like I said, it's no big deal." She coughed into her hand, "But hey, listen, you probably could use some sleep yourself, right? Why don't you head back to your quarters? I'm sure EDI will let you know if anything changes with those two," she gestured towards the door, "I'm just going walk around a little bit more, check some things and then go back to bed."

"I really think it would help you if you talked with me," Kelly insisted, "If not as a patient, then as a friend."

"There's nothing to be helped," Shepard told her tersely, "I'm just a little tense. Give me a few minutes and I'll be right as rain. You just focus on helping the crew and our pair of passengers in there." When it looked like Kelly was going to protest, Shepard added, "You need your sleep, Kelly. I need you in top order to help me run this ship, don't I? You can't do that half asleep over your terminal."

Kelly frowned, not convinced. "If that's what you want, Commander," she relented. Her tone said _this wasn't over_ and Shepard knew it. Kelly paused as she went to walk away, "If and when you do want to talk, you know where to find me." With that she left.

Shepard stood outside the observatory for a long while, long after Kelly's footsteps had faded. She lingered by the door awkwardly, lost in her own mind.

It wasn't proper for a Commander to have more problems than her crew. It was her job to handle everyone else' problems; not get caught up in her own. If she couldn't handle her stress, how could she expect the rest of her crew to?

After a while, Shepard drifted away from the door. She wandered aimlessly through the deck, not even caring if the patrolling crewmember saw her now. Her feet led her to another door and after a moment's hesitation she took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Chakwas looked up at her from her desk, still not ready to go back to sleep since Mavis woke her up. She set her tablet down and turned towards Shepard, leaning back in her chair, expectantly.

Shepard stood in the doorway like a lost child, not really making any effort o make eye contact with the doctor. "I'm…" she began, "I'm not exactly sure why I came here, but I…"she trailed off, rubbing at her arm self consciously, "I…"

Chakwas smiled kindly, knowingly. Without a word, she reached under her desk, and produced her half empty bottle of brandy; the very same one Shepard had bought for her.

"Please come in, Shepard," she said, gesturing to a spare chair, "Have a drink with me."

Shepard smiled gratefully and stepped inside.

* * *

 

When Garrus was called down to carry her back to her cabin later, Shepard was slumped forward in her chair, an empty glass in her fist and a blanket caringly draped over her, lost in a thankfully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been a while since I have updated. Things got a little hectic in my life recently and I had to put some beloved things on hold.
> 
> So this is another Shepard centric chapter. I hope everyone liked it
> 
> Read and review, it makes me happy and every time I smile one less garden gnome goes missing in this world.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting the disclaimer out of the way as usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I make no profit from posting this.
> 
> Also, something to celebrate. I have a beta now! The lovely drellassassin from AO3 has been a great joy to have looking over my work and sussing out any nonsense I might have missed. The wonderful masterthief (also from AO3)has been most helpful in their input as well.

When Shepard left her cabin the next morning, it was like the loudest, most boisterous Krogan had marched a parade through her head and decided to take up camp by her temples to use them as snare drums. She trudged out of her cabin with the look of someone who had risen from the dead, and had possibly stopped off for a bout of nausea along the way. Needless to say she didn't really feel like putting much effort into her appearance on this particular morning. Forgoing an actual hair style and settling for nothing more than lazily brushing out the tangles, she briefly ran her toothbrush over her teeth—the taste of toothpaste was never more welcome for someone with left over booze after taste— and headed down to the bridge to greet the crew with her less than sunny demeanor.

If anyone noticed Shepard's disheveled appearance, they were wise enough not to say anything.

"Look who's up," Garrus observed cheekily as his grouchy companion walked past him.

"Not in the mood, Vakarian," Shepard replied tersely, "It's been a long night. Or it was a long night. Whatever."

"I can see that," Garrus said, following her to the cockpit, "I merely wanted to see if you were feeling any better this morning?"

"No worse for wear, I guess," Shepard sighed, "Nothing I haven't experienced before after a long mission or anything."

Garrus nodded understandingly, "That's true, but it isn't like that makes it any less important a matter when our Commander isn't feeling well. Or my friend, for that matter. Hey," he pulled her aside, "I took care of your morning rounds today," he said, handing her a tablet, "I figured you could use some extra sleep after last night. Everything seems to be running smoothly so you don't have to worry too much."

"I appreciate it," Shepard said gratefully. She paused, "You know I don't quite recall heading back up to bed last night," she revealed, "and yet that's where I woke up. I take it then you had something to do with that?"

Garrus nodded again, "I know you well enough to know you wouldn't have wanted to get any more people involved than there already were."

"Thanks," Shepard said quietly, checking to make sure no one was listening in, "Really, Garrus. Thanks."

"Any time, Shepard."

Shepard rubbed her neck sheepishly, "So I guess I better go apologize to Chakwas for taking up her time and mooching off her booze. Sorry, by the way," she added, "that you had to see me like that. It's not your job to babysit me."

Garrus snorted, "Last time I checked, that was one of the top and foremost requirement for being best friend to the infamous rebel Shepard," he teased. He raised a hand, flipping through an imaginary list and adjusting nonexistent glasses to squint through, "Let's see here: wingman…drinking buddy…a believable alibi …mover of your furniture and/or any bodies you may need to dispose of …boredom induced cannon fodder …ah-ha!" he declared triumphantly, "here it is; Glorified babysitter."

"And if you look closely, the fine print says 'for the love of all that is sane, do _not_ let her drive the Mako," Joker added as they stopped by his chair, "hm, imagine that." He turned around in his seat, grinned broadly at his commander, "Hey Shepard," he grinned, "Heard Chakwas had a bit of a hangover and figured you might have had something to do with it."

"Good guess," Garrus mused.

"Hey!" Shepard protested, punching his arm, "Let's not gossip about our commanding officer when she is standing right here. Hungover or not—which I'm not!—I'm still capable of kicking both your asses. More importantly," she pointed at Joker, "You agreed that flip I made the Mako was, and I quote, 'The single most awesome act of stupidity in the history of forever'", she grinned triumphantly.

"The key word there is stupidity," Garrus said.

"Yeah, and that's not normally what's supposed to happen when putting it in park…" Joker reminded her.

"…still awesome," Shepard insisted petulantly.

"Not as funny as the look on Kaiden's face when you tried to steer with your feet, though," Garrus pointed out, making them both laugh.

" _Dude, hold my beer and watch this,"_ Joker imitated Shepard to the best of his ability, "Oh god, he actually thought for a second there that you were drinking behind the wheel!" He keeled over in a fresh peal of laughter.

Shepard fell against Garrus with a rather undignified cackle, "Yeah," she said, wiping a tear away from her eye, "and then when we got back, he puked on Tali's shoes, and then Pressly said—," Shepard faltered for a moment. She feigned a cough to make up for her sudden pause, "…did you see the look on Tali's face when Kaiden threw up on her?" she asked, "Priceless."

Joker's grin widened. "She was pissed," he agreed, not seeming to notice the change in subject, "I thought she was going to kick him out the airlock."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Shepard said, subconsciously giving herself a pat on the back for diverting the conversation away from less pleasant topics.

She was aware of Garrus' eyes on her and gave her friend what she hoped was a convincing smile. "Those were some good times, weren't they Garrus?" she asked nonchalantly.

Garrus blinked, "Yes," he said slowly, "They certainly were." It was clear he had at least an inkling of what was going on in his commander's head but presence of mind not to bring it up in front of an audience.

Shepard knew she wasn't off the hook though.

She cleared her throat, "Now," she said, "Everything's running smoothly up here, Joker?"

Joker nodded, oblivious to the unspoken conversation going on between his two friends. "Yeah," he replied gesturing to one of the many lit up screens in front of them, "Everything's going great here, Shepard. Smooth sailing. We should be at the Citadel in two days."

Shepard nodded, ignoring Garrus' eyes on her back, "Good. Now it says here," she brought up the tablet that Garrus had given her earlier, "that we're running low on some of our supplies. Chakwas needs to restock the med bay and it would appear some of our food reserves are running out. Is that right?"

"From all the griping coming from Gardner, I'd say that's about right," Joker agreed.

"Well that's nothing too big; it should still be more than enough to keep us until we reach the Citadel." She browsed through some of the notes on the tablet, "It also says here that we're low on fuel, but we can stop by a depot before we leave this cluster anyway, so that's not a concern either. How are we doing in the main battery, Garrus?"

"Fine," Garrus said after a moment, still regarding her carefully, "Nothing out of the ordinary to report."

"Very good," Shepard said absently, looking over her files, "So we'll be in the Citadel in two days…what about our civilians? How's Mavis faring in regards to," she spared a glance at Garrus, "Interacting with certain crewmembers?"

"Not well, Shepard."

"She's still refusing to go near you?"

Garrus nodded, "Unfortunately, yes. She's seen Mordin a few times in passing though. Her reactions to him are becoming less and less dramatic."

"Well that's progress," Shepard mused, "I'd feel better knowing for certain that I could leave her with C-Sec without her having a conniption, though."

"Why don't you stop by for a visit, Garrus," Joker suggested only half jokingly, "Speed up the process, charming her with that winning semi-charred smile of yours."

"I'd rather not have another bedpan thrown at me, thank you," Garrus commented dryly.

"Kelly said it was important not to rush things," Shepard reminded them both, "Forcing the matter when she isn't ready might freak her out more. Besides," she brought up one of her files, "It says here she has a scheduled appointment with Chakwas today. Looks like the bandages are coming off. Mordin was in charge of overseeing her scar tissue restoration; maybe he'll attend. We'll have to play it by ear."

"After near finishing a bottle of brandy, it is more likely Chakwas will be having Mordin fill in for her," Garrus stated.

Shepard grimaced, "Maybe we'll send Kelly along with Mavis, then."

"So we'll finally get to see what's under all the mummy wrappings," Joker snorted, "Hey Garrus, you and Zaeed might have a new member for your 'Scars are a chick magnet' club."

"This isn't really a laughing matter," Shepard scolded, giving Joker a rather dour look.

Joker shrugged, "I was just trying to be optimistic," he commented, baffled, "What's got your undies in a bunch?"

"It's too early in the morning your brand of humor, okay?" Shepard replied, "You and and Garrus can trade insults about his face later and _not_ at a stranger's offense." If Shepard was honest with herself, her headache was still too painful for her to want to waste time listening to Garrus and Joker go toe to toe with each other over who can be more sarcastic. As it was, after her earlier slip up down memory lane, she wasn't in much of a joking mood anymore. "Besides, don't think Kelly won't smack you around if she heard you talking about her patient like that, Joker," Shepard chided, "You know she'd do it."

"And put me out of commission?" Joker scoffed, "Fat chance; who would fly the ship?"

Garrus scratched his chin pensively, his grin not fading, "Oh I don't know…EDI?"

"If I may interject—,"

"EDI," Shepard cut off, "Joker," she added, seeing the potential argument with the AI brewing in his eyes, "Try not to antagonize each other for at least a few hours, alright?" she massaged her brow gingerly, "At least until I've had a good cup of coffee," _'and something for a hangover,'_ she added mentally.

"Yes Commander," Joker amended, chagrined, "Sorry."

Shepard looked at him for a moment and her eyes softened. It was hard to really fault Joker for being himself and admittedly it was nice to have some of his normalcy. Despite not having been alive to experience the time that past after the Normandy was attacked (and seriously, when was she finally going to reach the point where thinking of that didn't feel like a lead weight in her stomach?) it felt like a lifetime since she had last had such normalcy and peace with her friends, her crew. She supposed that it was because since she first became Commander she had spent hardly a day without one or more of them by her side causing some form of hilarious havoc. In truth, that must be why the mere few days she spent before being reunited with Joker and later Garrus were nothing short of an eternity for her.

Sure Jacob was a nice guy and Miranda at least made an attempt to not be the pompous ass her father no doubt raised her to be, but neither of them truly clicked with her, the pieces didn't fall into place. It was more like hanging out with co-workers than friends, sure you laugh at their jokes, spend some time shooting the breeze at the water cooler and all that, have some amicable understanding between you, but they wouldn't be the first person that comes to mind when it's Friday night on shore leave and you're looking for someone to bullshit with.

One could probably find the brief interactions throughout the day with the Cerberus pair as a reprieve from the monotony of work, but their presence didn't make the day brighter the way an actual friend would. It couldn't equal the same happiness you feel when your best friend walks in the room and is so comfortable with you, knowing you so well that they throw away all form of manners and protocol and drag you away for a drink. The kind of person who calls you a jackass and refers to you by your first name while on duty, not giving a damn for the looks of shock from subordinates who revere you too much, put you on too high a pedestal as a hero that they forget you even _have_ a name outside of your title.

"I did not mean to antagonize Mr. Moreau, Shepard," EDI's ever polite tone broke through Shepard's musings, "I only wished to inform him that if he were ever to be incapacitated due to injury, I would be able to navigate all functions of the Normandy in his absence."

"Because that doesn't sound like a nefarious plot in the making," Joker muttered, crossing his arms, "And you, running my ship for me? Pfft, over my dead body." He spared a glance at Shepard, "Right," he said, remembering what she had asked of him, "No arguing with the AI."

"I appreciate that," Shepard told him, "And rest assured EDI that we are fully confident in your capabilities. However, I don't think we'll be putting Joker out of action any time soon. Just _try_ to get along you two," she requested.

"So to get back on track, I used Cerberus funds to purchase FBA couplings back on Omega as was requested by Donnelly and Daniels in engineering. EDI, I trust those are working out well?"

"Everything is running efficiently, Commander," answered the AI.

"Glad to hear it. So," she said, tucking her tablet under her arm and rubbing her hands together, "we have a basic list of tasks to go through when we reach the Citadel. First and foremost: go to the Zakera ward to enlist the help of this person Miranda's been talking about; some 'Master Thief', the file says. That's easy enough; hopefully she'll be expecting us. Then we can swing by C-Sec to hand off our two guests down in Med Bay. Not sure how long that will take, so I might hand off the task to you or Jacob if it turns out to be a lengthy process, alright Garrus? Anderson wants to see me and I really want to talk to him; set the record state on any rumors he might have heard regarding me and this whole Cerberus business."

Garrus nodded, "That's fine, Shepard, don't worry about it," he grinned, "Plus, I doubt you want to miss out on the chance to see the look on Udina's face when he finds out you're alive."

"Oh God, you're right," Shepard gasped, a tiny bit of excitement welling up inside her. She had completely forgotten about that. "Man, I wish I had a camera! Does this thing take photographs?" she asked, fiddling with her Omni-tool, "I swear if this model doesn't have that option, I'm gonna—,"

"Getting off track again, Shepard," Garrus reminded her. Joker just smirked.

" _Right_ ," Shepard agreed, "Focus; gotcha. So yeah, new squadmate, C-Sec, fond farewell to our visitors, Anderson—"

"Possibly fake a Jesus in front of Udina," Joker cut in.

"That too," Shepard agreed, "And then, I guess getting supplies and heading out. I don't think I'm forgetting anything. Right?" She mulled over the tasks in her head, pursing her lips, "Eh, Miranda can let me know if I missed anything."

"Well, gentlemen," she continued, "and Lady…I guess," she added for EDI, "If that is all I'll be off. I think I'll grab a bite to eat before Kelly snags me and swamps me with a full terminal inbox again. Do what you do best and I guess I'll check in on you both later," she shrugged for lack of anything else to say and walked out of the cockpit and towards the elevator.

"See ya, Commander," Joker called merrily, "I promise to be on my best behavior."

Shepard waved distractedly at him from over her shoulder as she left.

* * *

 

Joker watched Shepard leave before turning back around in his chair. "Hey, Garrus?"

"Something on your mind?" Garrus asked, giving Joker his full attention. He already had a good idea what was on the pilot's mind.

"Isn't doing the daily rounds Kelly's job?" Joker asked, "Or Miranda's?"

"Well…yes," Garrus replied, "and if we were on the old Normandy, I'm sure Shepard would have no problem letting someone else tend to these duties. But as it stands we're temporarily allied with Ceberus and she probably—"

"She probably wants to maintain as much control over her own ship as she can," Joker finished knowingly, "Yeah, I get that but seriously? It's just trivial stuff. Kelly could easily handle it and she seems like a decent person. Miranda I could understand having some suspicions towards, but Kelly seems harmless and it isn't like most of these checks aren't going to be run by Shepard in the end anyway. Why do it herself?"

"I imagine she wants to keep herself busy," Garrus said evasively.

"Busier than worrying about saving the universe?"

"Let's just say she has a lot on her mind."

"Like what?" Joker pried.

"It's not my place to say," Garrus insisted as politely as he could, "She's just stressed."

Joker looked back over his shoulder, spying Shepard chatting with Kelly; it would seem she had been intercepted by the Yeoman in the end despite her best efforts.

"Is that why she was acting so off?" Joker asked, "The stress is getting to her?"

"Many things are weighing up against her," Garrus said.

"Yeah, but when aren't we facing a whole mess of problems while saving everyone?" Joker asked.

"Joker," Garrus groaned, exasperatedly. "This is different. This…" he sighed, "How can I put this delicately? Shepard…things have changed, Jeff. _A lot_ of things have changed since we were last on a ship together and it is going to take her some getting used to."

Joker nodded, mulling that bit of information over. "Okay, I can understand that."

"Do you?" Garrus inquired, leaning forward, "Let me just say this: we had _two years_ to come to terms with everything that happened and move on with our lives. Shepard hasn't even had a _month_ so far."

Joker stared at Garrus, his eyes widening as he put the pieces together.

Garrus straightened up, "I'd rather not discuss it anymore now," he said, "It wouldn't be fair to Shepard. I'm going to head down to the lower deck for now. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Sure," Joker said slowly, watching the Turian walk away. He weighed Garrus' words carefully in his mind for a moment. Slumping forward with a sigh, he took his hat off and rubbed at his head. "I'm such an idiot," he groaned in frustration.

* * *

 

"Shepard."

Shepard turned away from dismissing Kelly to find Garrus walking up to her.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, when he reached her, "I could go for a bite to eat myself."

"Sure," Shepard acquiesced, "I wouldn't mind the company actually. Maybe Gardner whipped up something good this time."

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," Garrus replied as they boarded the elevator.

"So…" Garrus said after a minute or so of silence, "About last night…"

"There's nothing to talk about," Shepard said sternly.

"You were having trouble sleeping last night," Garrus pushed on, "That's usually why you drink that late. And don't think I didn't catch your little slip up back there when talking to Joker. I've read the records from the Normandy Shepard. About Pressly…you've been dreaming about when…" he reached out to her again.

"I would appreciate if you minded your own business, Vakarian," Shepard snapped bluntly, taking a step away, "I'm fine."

"Clearly you're not or I wouldn't have had to carry you back to your room with brandy on your breath," Garrus pointed out, "You reeked of it. Drinking away your troubles is not to way to handle this, Shepard. If you don't face this—whatever exactly this is—this unhealthy habit is going to develop into a legitimate problem."

"You make it sound like I'm some raging alcoholic," Shepard shot back as they stepped off the elevator. She lowered her voice to a hissed whisper, so as not to attract any unwanted attention, "A drink or two is not an addiction; it's a night cap at best."

"I wouldn't call that just a drink or two last night, Shepard."

Shepard groaned, massaging her temples. "Look," she said, "I really don't want to go through this with you anymore, alright? Let's not hash this out again; I can handle it. Can we just sit down and have a nice meal without you blowing this out of proportion," she beseeched pleadingly.

Garrus sighed, "Fine," he shrugged, "If that's what you want."

"Good," Shepard replied, starting towards the mess hall.

"Can I just ask you something?"

Shepard huffed, "What is it?" she asked impatiently.

Garrus walked up to her and looked her levelly in the eye, "Just how long to you plan to keep waking up, night after night, reliving that day?" he asked, taking in Shepard's stunned expression. "Just something to think about," he patted her on the shoulder and joined the queue in front of Gardner's station.

Shepard stared wide eyed after his repeating back, stuck in shocked petrifaction. It wasn't until someone brushed past her that she realized several eyes in the mess hall were watching her curiously. Schooling her expression, she adjusted herself to her full height, fixing her crew with a heavy stare until they looked away. Walking towards the breakfast line, she muttered low under her breath.

"God damn it, Garrus."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting the disclaimer out of the way as usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I make no profit from posting this.

* * *

 

To say Mavis was nervous would be an understatement. Her stomach was in knots, her heart thumping wildly and with so much force it felt as if it had somehow relocated to her throat, making her gag. Every muscle in her body was a mass of finely coiled tension wound so tight it made her back and limbs ache from the strain. Yes, 'nervous' didn't even come close to describing the gnawing apprehension she felt at that moment.

Today the bandages were coming off.

She couldn't deny that she was ready to take them off, heck it had been bugging her for days just how frustrating it was to walk without the use of one eye; depth perception wasn't exactly her friend right now without it. Plus, that god awful itching that began on her first day of consciousness on the ship had done nothing to make itself scarce in the past few days of recovery. If anything, it had gotten worse and she could tell Chakwas was getting sick of having to keep an eye on her so that she wouldn't be tempted to pick under the bandages with her fork at mealtimes (it was only two times, was it so much to ask that they all trust her word when she promised not to do it again?).

But even with the promise of sweet relief from the stiff unyielding wrappings, Mavis wasn't entirely giddy with glee at the prospect of getting them removed. Getting them removed meant finally seeing what damage the fire had done.

Admittedly, she hadn't caught even a single glimpse of the scars. Sure the gauze had been removed and replace with fresh strips several times, but in the beginning she had been too out of it from the pain medications they put her on to bother sneaking a peek. Then when she was lucid enough to be aware of when they changed the gauze she opted out of watching the process out of sheer squeamishness, keeping her eyes shut tight. So this would be her first time seeing the extent of her injuries; the bandages would not be going back up again after they came off this time.

She had meant what she said to Chakwas when they first met; she couldn't exactly mourn how she once looked when she couldn't even recall how she looked before Horizon. It would be wasted effort to fixate on a face she couldn't remember; she couldn't miss what she didn't recollect having in the first place.

But that didn't mean she was going to like what she saw when her skin was uncovered. Even without a face to mourn the loss of, the prospects of possibly being left with a face one only found in horror films wasn't pleasant. Mangled skin and ruptured, blistering tissue; it filled her with dread to imagine.

Chakwas had assured her that initial treatment had gone better than expected, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be scarring. Neither Chakwas nor anyone else onboard was a cosmetologist. It was as Chakwas had said; they could stop the bleeding and dull the pain, but they weren't equipped for actually making the repairs more aesthetically pleasing.

Now that she thought about it…would it be so bad if she just left the gauze on?

"So the big day's finally arrived," Kelly declared cheerfully as she escorted Mavis to her appointment, "You must be excited."

"Not exactly the word I would use," Mavis responded dryly.

Kelly smiled, "There's no need to be anxious," she reassured, "Chakwas seemed rather confident that they had done a great job of patching you up. I'm sure the scarring will be minimal. And think of how nice it will be to finally wash yourself regularly; hello showers, goodbye sponge baths!"

Mavis snorted, "That's one way to look at it. By the way," she took in their surroundings, "Any reason we aren't doing this in the Med Bay? I didn't think we would need to go to the bridge to do this."

Kelly faltered, "Well," she began, giving Mavis a guilty look, "I may have forgot to mention that we wouldn't be meeting with Chakwas for this…"

Mavis' eyebrows rose, "Oh?"

"Yeah…you see, because Chakwas wasn't the one in charge of the skin grafts, it wasn't exactly necessary for her to oversee this process. Miranda thought her time would be better spent in the Med Bay in case any of the crew needed her for whatever given purpose." What she wasn't about to tell Mavis was that Chakwas was still nursing a rather persistent headache from the night before and wasn't up to even moving from sitting face down at her desk with a cold compress unless something serious came up like a crewmember spontaneously combusting.

"Okay," Mavis responded, "But that doesn't explain why we needed to come up here."

Kelly paused outside of a door to the side of the elevator, "That's because you will be seeing a specialist in this case and he prefers to work in his lab."

Mavis eyed Kelly warily, her friend's fidgeting making her uneasy, "And this specialist is?"

"…Mordin…"

"WHAT?!" Mavis squawked, making Kelly wince; on more than one occasion Kelly had jokingly informed her that her level of shrillness she could achieve was akin to some sort of deranged bird call. But it wasn't a joking matter now. "Are you crazy?" she jumped back from the door as if it had burned her, "Seriously, what's wrong with you? What were you thinking?"

"I didn't want to tell you ahead of time because I knew you wouldn't go," Kelly explained hurriedly.

"Damn straight I wouldn't!"

"Calm down," Kelly pleaded, "Mavis, you know I wouldn't let anyone on this ship hurt you. And no one here _wants_ to hurt you. You don't have to be afraid of him, I promise." She took Mavis' hand in her own, "He's spoken with you a few times since you two met," she reminded her, "on the intercom. And yesterday you ate lunch in the mess hall with him only a few tables away. That wasn't so bad, remember?"

"Yeah but it wasn't good either," Mavis protested, "hearing his voice or seeing him at a distanceis not the same as being up close and personal with him. He's going to be poking around my body here. I didn't wake up this morning with the intention of being probed today."

Kelly rolled her eyes, "I think someone spent a little too much time watching outdated inaccurate science fiction movies as a child," she observed. The stare she then shot Mavis was one of both pleading and determination, "You have to face your fears sometime, Mavis," she told her firmly, "We're going to be at the Citadel in two days. Then what will you do? You can't just hide away forever. Come on, you've been making such progress in therapy. I've shown you pictures of Salarians—pictures of Mordin— they've become less scary to you, right?"

Mavis didn't reply, shooting fleeting glances at the door to the lab.

Kelly sighed, "Please Mavis," she begged, stroking the top of Mavis hand with her thumb in what she hoped was a soothing gesture, "He only wants to help you. Won't it feel great to have those bandages off? You only have to be in there for a little while and if it seems too much for you we can leave, but we have to at least try. Please?" she asked again, "For me?"

Mavis avoided her gaze, not wanting to be manipulated by puppy dog eyes. Why did it have to be Mordin? Surely Chakwas could handle this, it wasn't like unwrapping her would take any incredible skill or knowledge to do.

Man, she felt like a coward. It was bad enough she made a spectacle of herself when she met Garrus, how much longer was she going to run away with her tail between her legs whenever someone even mentioned aliens? The entire ship must be laughing at her, as if she didn't already have enough to be self conscious about.

"Fine," Mavis said slowly, "Okay, I'll do it," she said more assuredly, "I can do this."

Kelly positively beamed at her, "Glad to hear it," she chirped, "And I will be right there with you the entire way."

"But," Mavis added quickly, "But only because you're coming with me. And between him and Garrus, I could probably take the scrawny guy if I had too."

"That's…the spirit," Kelly shrugged, opting to not inform Mavis that this particular Salarian had a well known expertise in covert operations and impeccable if not deadly combat tactical knowledge, "So shall we go in?"

"Just-just give me a minute," Mavis bargained.

"Sure thing."

Mavis took a deep breath. She did it again and then one more time for good measure. Throwing her shoulders back, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself.

"Ready?" Kelly asked.

Mavis nodded, "Okay," she said, steeling herself, "I'm ready. Open the door."

Kelly grinned, taking Mavis hand as she guided her inside.

If she noticed Mavis dragging her feet, she didn't comment on it.

Mavis tried not to cringe when she saw the strange being bent over a microscope on the other side of the room. He looked up expectantly as they drew near, straightening to his full height which admittedly didn't help Mavis' trepidation in regards to his appearance.

"Mavis," he greeted, "Yeoman Chambers. Was expecting you. Right on time. Surprising to say the least, given previous interactions, was not sure if you would come willingly or not. Would not want to force you."

His words came out in rapid succession, pausing only occasionally for his broken up musing to regroup before moving onto the next tidbit of what he seemed sure was fascinating information.

To Mavis however, it was all nonsensical medical jargon and he was going too fast for her to really keep up with.

"Skin grafts, however, require monitoring…is beneficial to recovery process and reduces chances of infection after open air exposure; bandages will not be there to prevent contamination from outside forces after removal."

"Of course," Mavis replied with strained, exaggerated perkiness, a facsimile of a smile fixed rigidly on her face. She edged closer to Kelly and let out a nervous, high pitched giggle. "Does he always talk this fast," she whispered to Kelly.

"He thinks fast," Kelly explained, "he talks fast."

" _Right…"_

Mordin paid no mind to them talking about him like he wasn't even there, it was possible he was quite used to such treatment with patients, "Will be locking the exits now," he informed them, "Do not want interruptions from passing crew; will need you to remove your clothes. Would be practical to assume you would want…privacy for this."

"My clothes?" Mavis asked, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, "You're going to see me naked?"

"Briefly," Mordin replied, "Cannot see full extent of scaring otherwise. Your concerns are expected—human societal norms consist of more reservation about nudity—but unnecessary. Salarian libido noncompulsory, not triggered by aesthetic attributes deemed stimulating to other species…human anatomy bears no sexual connotations."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Mavis stammered, "It's bad enough I have to take sponge baths around Chakwas, I don't exactly want to be naked around you." ' _Or have you touch me_ ,' she thought, eyeing his three fingered hands.

"Disrobing is unavoidable," Mordin reasoned, "Cannot remove gauze while you are clothed. Has to be me, skin grafting is complex process…requires proper examination. Would be best to not put off indefinitely."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Kelly said soothingly, gripping her shoulder, "He's a doctor, this is strictly professional."

"Can I get a different professional?" Mavis whined.

"Mavis!" Kelly chided, "I'm sorry, Mordin," she apologized, "I'm afraid Mavis is still a little nervous around you."

"Apologies unnecessary," Mordin assured her, "I am aware of Mavis' condition. But cannot avoid extraterrestrial interactions forever. Will prove difficult on the Citadel."

"That's what I keep telling her," Kelly agreed. She gave Mavis a gentle pat on the back, "Just relax, Mavis," she gave her a nudge, "it will be over before you know it."

Mavis eyed Mordin warily, weighing her options. "…Okay," she said finally.

"Very good," Mordin nodded, holding out his hand expectantly, "Will need you to remove your shirt in order to proceed."

Mavis regarded his limited number of fingers, the strange extremity dangling in front of her. Fighting the urge to shy away from him and take her cowardice to new, even lower levels, she turned away from him slightly in a last ditch attempt of modesty and began to pull her shirt over her head.

Pausing, she glanced over at Kelly, "I'm not sure I'm exactly comfortable taking my clothes off around you either," she stated, "it's sort of awkward doing it around my therapist…friend…you get what I mean."

"I can wait outside if you like," Kelly offered, making to head for the door.

Mavis grabbed onto her arm, "No! uh…I mean," she removed her hand and stepped back, looking off to the side, feigning nonchalance, "I mean, I guess it is okay if you stay here. I'm just making a big deal out of nothing." The meaning behind her words was obvious. _'Please don't leave me alone with him.'_

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Kelly pointed out helpfully.

Mavis snorted, "If you seen one pair of boobs, you've seen them all, right?" She blanched, "Oh woah…where the hell did _that_ come from?" she stammered, "I didn't mean…that wasn't what I…that was really rude of me."

Kelly grinned, "Looks like you might have a bit of a crass sense of humor," she observed, "Joker's going to love that."

"Looks like it," Mavis agreed, chagrined. Casting another weary glanced at Mordin, she resumed discarding her shirt and hesitantly handed it over to him. "Here," she said simply, depositing it into his open palm, her breath halting in her throat as her fingers came within inches of grazing his weathered skin. She wrapped her arms around herself self consciously, not caring if the bandages around her torso did a fine job on their own of hiding her dignity, "Now what?"

She flinched when without warning Mordin reached out and lightly touched her face and began to peel away the gauze over her eye. Desperately resisting the instinctual need to recoil, she rigidly endured his ministrations and begrudgingly obeyed his gentle prodding when he moved onto her arms and had her raise them up a tad.

"Damage to the abdomen was the most extensive," he informed her, releasing her arm and starting on the first layer of bandages on her chest, "Tissue over the chest cavity required the most repair, infection was…accelerated due to inflammation."

"You don't say?" Mavis replied stiffly, seizing up as his hands brushed along her ribs as inch by inch her skin was exposed, "That sounds serious."

Mordin hummed, "Immensely," he agreed, "needed to work fast or there would have been little living tissue left to work with, replicating dead cells far more difficult a process to do in limited time frame," he tapped her arm to lower it so that he could focus on unwinding the wrappings backwards over her shoulder, "had I not acted in time, treatment to revitalized dead tissue would have been postponed till admittance to Huerta." Contemplatively, he breathed deeply in through his nose—or whatever it was that acted in place of a nose on his flat, barren face, "Would have been too late by then, damage would have been permanent. No," he shook his head, "Had to be me, only logical course of action. Turn," he instructed.

Mavis spun around clumsily under his guidance as the last of the gauze was unwound from her abdomen, leaving her bare from the waist up. Gathering her resolved, she muster up enough courage to look down.

It was…not what she expected, hard to say if it was worse or better than she had envisioned. Lacing in a raised, spidery pattern, the scars spread out over her left breast and cupped the underside; it was only a slight consolation that it had not quite reached the areola. The rough, chaffing texture stood out jarringly, obnoxiously against her flesh. It traveled down her arm, down from her armpit to the inside of her wrist and elbow. Her right arm had a few blemishes on it as well and both her hands were coarse and discolored, not unexpected considering her hands had been her only shield against the blast, ineffective as they may have been.

Reaching up to her face, she fingered the sore, coarse tissue around her eye, wincing at the painful ache of the inflamed area. Trailing down over her cheek, she ran a finger over her mouth, grazing a crusty strip of jagged flesh jutting down from the edge of her lip. Going back up to the top of her head, she was met with the sensation a bumpy, sensitive scalp amongst patches of short, peach fuzz prickly hair on one side of her head.

"Can…" she swallowed thickly, "Can I see a mirror?" she requested when she found her voice.

"Are you sure, Mavis" Kelly asked gently.

Mavis nodded, "I'm sure."

"If you're sure," Kelly relented, "Now let's see…Mirror…a mirror," she scanned the room searchingly, "I don't think we have one up here…Ah-ha!" she pointed towards the row of cabinets along the wall, "these are rather reflective. It'll do for the time being, right?"

Mavis considerd it, then shrugged, "Better than nothing."

Kelly guided her over to the wall and Mavis found herself confronted with the face of a stranger.

Her right side was mostly unscathed except for a few scratches, but it was hard to appreciate it with the mismatch appearance it gave when side by side with the other half. A disfiguring patchwork of scarring fanned over the left side of her face from her scalp to her chin and then down along her neck. It circled her eye, the fire having claimed part of her eyelashes and seared her eyelid into a narrow point at the corner. Two sections of her eyebrow were missing and a streak of sores jutted out across the bridge of her nose. The corner of her lower lip was torn and twisted just enough to be noticeable and a mass of scabs branched out above her upper lip. Her ear was a mottled, blotchy mess of reconstructed, misshapen flesh that it was a wonder they hadn't just removed it altogether.

It was hard to judge whether she had been particularly attractive before the fire, her eyes an almost russet brown while her hair fell limply in black strands. Her scalp was cleaned shaven for the most part only broken up by series of veiny scratches on her skin, the fuzz of hair not yet long enough to obscure it from view. The other side of her head was mercifully untouched, tresses of faded black dye falling to just barely graze her shoulder.

She could make out the angry welts along her neck left over from the unforgiving claws of those Husks, but she felt it was best to not dwell on that.

Then there was her chest. Timidly, she brought her questing hand up and touched under her breast, just over her ribs. The tender surface beneath her fingertips had a rather scale-like quality to it, an uneven terrain still raw and scabbing over in flakey patches. The unsightly markings continued on down her side and past the lower layer of gauze before being swallowed up by waistband of her shorts.

Another thing she couldn't help but noticed was that she was chubby. Not necessarily fat per say, but her stomach had a slight paunch to it, protruding out in front just enough to fold a bit over the rim of her shorts in an unflattering slope. The skin stretched over her stomach had a slightly plush softness to it like baby fat rather than the impressive tone she had observed in some of the crew when they passed her in tank tops and shorts on their way to the showers. Her hips were wide and gave way into thick thighs to go along with her not so slender waist and her arms and face lacked the slim, delicate curves and shape that she often admired in Kelly and Commander Shepard.

She wasn't ugly, but standing next to the attractive Yeoman with her tiny waist and slender frame certainly didn't make her feel like the prettiest flower in the garden.

Kelly leaned forward and rested her cheek on Mavis shoulder. "It's not so bad," she told her, giving Mavis a hug from behind, "It may be a lot to take in at once but really, it looks okay. In fact, I think you look great. It gives you character. And hey," she smiled encouragingly, "It didn't take that pretty smile of yours."

Mavis grimaced, "You really think it looks okay?"

Kelly's grin widened, "You look fine. It just looks startlingly to you right now because the wounds are so recent. The inflammation should go down and the redness should fade some in a few days now that the bandages are off and then it will look much better."

Mavis bit her lip, her eyes still on her reflection, "I'm not so sure…"

"Hey," Kelly turned Mavis to face her, looking her levelly in the eyes, "I know this is hard for you, but trust me it isn't as bad as you are making it out to be. There are many forms of beauty, different views for everyone."

"Yeah but this," Mavis gestured to Kelly's figure, "Seems a heck of a lot better than this," she gestured to her own, "And I'm not just talking about the scars. I admit, I sort of noticed that I was…differently shaped than a bunch of trained soldiers, but seriously," she turned sideways and took a look at her jutting behind, "It's a wonder you had shorts that fit me! It's bad enough I have to look like this," she waved a hand over her facial scars, "but this just adds injury to insult."

"Everybody is built differently, Mavis," Kelly persisted.

"So there are other people this size," Mavis asked hopefully.

"Yes, but is not normal occurrence in humans," Mordin stated informatively, "Human diet consists heavily of supplements and boosters design to enforce and regulate healthier, able bodied physical structures. Larger body masses considered quite common in earlier generations, but posed various health risks." He gave Mavis' body a once over, "Is not often one sees this body mass in humans in recent years."

"But beauty is subjective," Kelly corrected, sending Mordin a reprimanding glare, "And it was more obese body types that raised concerns about health. Mavis is just fine as she is." She turned back to Mavis and gave her a reassuring smile, "And as far as your scars goes, they're actually very mild considering what you went through. And no one here will judge you for them. In fact, many aliens and humans find scars to be quite attractive; it is a sign of resilience and bravery for most." She squeezed Mavis shoulders, "You're beautiful."

Mavis still wasn't convinced but Kelly honestly did look sincere. It would be nice to think she was just blowing things out of proportions, but it was hard to be positive about all this. She knew she looked different than the others on the ship and that alone was enough to put a little niggling prick of self consciousness in the back of her mind. Still…"Thanks Kelly."

"I mean it," Kelly insisted, "I really do."

"What's this?" Mavis inquired, lightly fingering a series of stitches circling a small segment of her shaven scalp. The stitching stood out only faintly against the skin just above her ear, but it was just enough to make it hard to overlook.

"That?" Kelly eyed the stitching nervously. She shifted uneasily on her feet, "That's where the…implant was put in…"

"Implant?" Mavis parroted, shocked. She fondled the raised skin on her head with newfound horror; feeling around as if she might come across some foreign protrusion buried just beneath the surface, "What implant?"

"It's a translator," Kelly explained quickly, "To help you understand other life forms besides humans. You didn't have one when they brought you in, nor any basic recollection of being taught basic alien communications. I was hoping Miranda would be the one to break it to you," she added guiltily, "Many people use an Omni Tool but it is considered practical for the general public to have at least a basic, more permanent translator on them, in case an Omni tool was damaged in some way and they needed a back up means of communication."

"Normally we would have recommended you to a doctor on the Citadel with the mere _suggestion_ to have a sub dermal implant surgically installed, but well…" Kelly rubbed at her arm nervously and refused to meet Mavis' eyes, "Huerta Memorial has a high employment of Asari and Salarian medical professionals. Chances are you would have ended up with one of them doing the procedure and given your reluctance to be around aliens in general it seemed like a terrible idea to leave you with a surgeon you wouldn't be able to even understand prior to going 'under the knife', so to speak."

Mavis blanched; the image of some random alien standing over her with a scalpel making her stomach twinge unpleasantly. Yeah, not going there. "So…what?" Mavis asked, running her hand over the stitches again, "This things translates whatever anyone says? Anything? It's like…some gadget lodged in my brain or something? Do I have to worry about setting off metal detectors now?"

Kelly laughed softly, "Yes, yes for the most part, not quite, and no nothing like that," she answered in order, "Not every word or phrase carries over into English or other human languages; it doesn't quite translate Quarian or Asari slang. The implant is small and focuses on the speech part of the brain. Just about everyone has one these days, it's just easier. So no, it won't be setting off metal detectors or anything of the like. They're recognized by security scanners; otherwise everyone would probably be setting them off."

"So this Miranda woman had Chakwas do this?" Mavis asked shrewdly.

"Yes."

Mavis frowned, "I think I would like to have a little chat with her when I get the chance."

Kelly nodded, "Understandable," She stepped back a step and offered Mavis a soft smile, "Think you can handle Mordin giving you a check-up?"

Mavis shrugged, still stuck on the idea that someone instructed one of the people she trusted most to root around in her head; maybe she should have a talk with Chakwas too. "I…I guess so," she glanced at the doctor, unsettled by how calmly he just stood there, watching her like she was some sort of new thesis. She wondered if he had any part in the implant being installed, "I can put my shirt back on after, right?"

"Just as soon as this is over."

Not being allowed to cover herself, Mavis stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do with her hands as she stood there under Mordin's unwavering gaze.

Observing her studiously, Mordin walked around Mavis in a slow circle, making note of any particularly raw looking abrasions. Paying no mind to the slight resistance Mavis offered to his touch, he adjusted her this way and that, feeling out around the sores along her neck and jaw searching for any noteworthy protrusions or signs of discomfort. He tilted her head to the side and cupped her ear to test the durability of the grafter flesh and prodded it to ensure no abscess had built up from infection.

When Mordin reached her breast, Mavis flinched and had to remind herself that this was a strictly professional examination. She tried to distract herself by mulling over Mordin's earlier words, how Salarians didn't find anything sexual or profane about human nudity. She wondered why that was. Kelly had reviewed various facts with her about Salarians, but appearance hadn't been focused on much, mostly due to Mavis on stubbornness. She did recall Kelly mentioning that Salarians were predominantly male and that females were relatively similar from a human standpoint. Taking in that little grain of knowledge, Mavis regarded the almost disturbing concave intent of Mordin's chest and reasoned that females probably didn't have any breasts for males to find any titillation in to begin with.

The jury was still out on if that made her feel any more comfortable about how dangerously close Mordin was treading to her nipple at the moment.

Thankfully, his inspection of her breasts didn't last very long and he moved onto examining her ribcage and stomach. An unexpected squeak of a laugh from the slight tickling of Mordin's ministrations had Mavis blushing crimson and fighting the urge to kick herself.

"So what's the prognosis, Mordin?" Kelly asked sanguinely, "She's healing up rather nicely, wouldn't you say?"

Mordin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, "Tissue is healing well," he commented, picking up Mavis left arm and lifting it up and down, testing how well the crusted tracks of skin held up when stretched from movement. He paid specific attention to the inner elbow and the flexing of muscle across the top of her hand, "Scabbing has begun to cover fibrosis tissue. That's good…means body is repairing damage on its own now. Scarring superficial; external disfigurement causing only mild impairment to visual and auditory faculties."

"Disfigurement?" Mavis echoed in alarm, "Kelly—!"

"He means that the scars on your eyelid and ear didn't cause permanent blindness or hearing loss," Kelly interjected, "Disfigurement might have been too strong a word," she added, giving Mordin a look, "I'm telling you, it isn't that bad. Things could be far worse; never forget that. You could have lost a limb or an eye, but you didn't. You got very lucky all things considered."

Mordin nodded, "Burns can leave crippling damage, it was fortunate flames were extinguished before more permanent damage could be done." He pulled out a pen light, "Will need to confirm this, however." He took her chin in hand and shined the light in her eye. He went back and forth from her left eye to her right and noted the response time between the two to visual stimulation. Angling her head off and to the right, he shined the light down her ear canal, pausing to snap his fingers an inch away from her ear and monitoring her response.

Finding the results satisfactory, he released her chin and put the light away, recording his findings in his omni-tool. Reaching past her, he picked up something from the lab table and holding it out for her to see. "Apply this four times a day," he told her, fingering the top of some sort of container, "Will reduce amount of swelling and restore durability and elasticity to skin; would not want skin to crack or bleed from regular physical activity." Unscrewing the lid, he all but assaulted Mavis' nose with a strong scent of antiseptic overpowering an underlying essence of some sort of indiscernible herb.

Without much ado, Mordin swiped over the contents of the jar with a gauze covered hand and proceeded to smear the odorous substance across Mavis' skin.

Mavis hissed at the contact, "C-cold!" she exclaimed.

Mordin paid her no mind, continuing on across her flesh. He mapped out the planes of her collarbone and over the expanse of her chest, descending in slow dabbing motions and being as thorough as possible. He saved her face for last, blotting at her face with the corner of the gauze pad and paid careful attention to circling her eyelid without getting it into her eye before tracing the shape of her jaw and out the opening of her eat. When the cream was rubbed in enough to leave only the slightest oily sheen, he discarded the gauze with curt jerk of his head, finding his work more than adequate.

"Do not forget to regularly use it," he warned, handing the container off to Kelly.

"I'll make sure she remembers," Kelly assured him as she tucked the jar away under Mavis discarded shirt.

Pleased to hear this, Mordin turned back to Mavis. "Will need to check lower extremities now," he informed her, "Will be more efficient if you sit down." He gestured to a nearby chair.

Trying not to appear too relieved at a chance to put some temporary distance between them, Mavis complied. Sitting awkwardly on the provided chair, she shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't…have to take my shorts off for this, do I?" she asked uneasily.

Mordin nodded, "Cannot remove bandages with clothing in the way," he said quite simply. Then he just stood there patiently watching her.

When it became apparent he was waiting for Mavis to actually comply with this unspoken request, she realized there was very little chance she was going to convince him it wasn't necessary. ' _It's just a physical,'_ she told herself, _'it's just like any other doctor's exam.'_ It certainly would help if she could actually remember a past doctors visit that require nudity, even a pelvic exam, but her memory was a fickle thing and this wasn't one of the few brief moments she had had of regaining any specific recollection of her past. Deciding to bite the bullet, she took a deep breath and reluctantly shimmied out of her shorts. Folding her hands primly in her lap, she made an effort to keep at least her remaining ounce of dignity intact as she was forced to sit under the scrutinizing gaze of Mordin.

Kelly, sensing Mavis' discomfort, moved to rectify the matter. Stepping over to one of the cabinets lining the opposite wall, she open one of the drawers and rifled through it. After a few minutes of searching, she pulled out a sheet commonly used for keeping dust off the lab equipment and returned to Mavis' side.

"Here," she said, draping the sheet over Mavis' lap. She arranged it so that it rested mostly over Mavis' right side leaving her left leg barely covered on the side, providing easy access to the bandages for Mordin, "Is this any better?"

"Much," Mavis agreed with a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Kelly."

"Anytime."

"Is…uh," Mavis cast a glance at Mordin, still not comfortable meeting his eye, "Is this…This is okay," she gestured to the sheet, "Right? It's not in the way or anything?"

"It's fine," Mordin assured her, dropping to one knee to get a better look at her leg, "There's complete access to the bandages; clothes would have been covering them and hard to push aside unless removed. This will do." He began removing the gauze and the room slipped into silence.

Mavis was too stressed and exhausted at this point to even sneak a peek at the skin on her leg as it was gradually revealed. Mordin had said the worst harm was to her chest—though she'd like to argue that her face seemed far more harrowing—and she had already been introduced to that damage. Her leg was probably not going to look any worse by comparison and it wasn't like she couldn't just slip on a pair of pants and hide the whole mess. She had fewer options for concealment with her face and that was where her concerns were.

"Hey," Kelly broke the stillness, "Look at that."

"At what?" Mavis looked up at Kelly to find her gaze fixed on her lap.

"That," Kelly insisted, leaning over Mavis and pulling the corner of the sheet back just enough to show her what had caught her attention, "That right there," she repeated, pointing.

Glancing down, Mavis took in the array of raised and ragged tissue on her thigh. Well she was right; it wasn't any worse than what she had seen on the upper part of her body, but it still wasn't a pleasant sight to look at. The skin was blotchy and discolored; an assortment of bruising and contusions that would put any barroom brawler to shame.

That wasn't what Kelly was focused on, though. Or at least, she was gesturing to the scarring as a whole but rather one specific spot. Among the various other meaningless shapes and outlines of scabs, high on her upper thigh, was a series of triangular points, just an inch or two below where her shorts would have been if she still had them on.

The points fanned out in a circle around a stain of pinkish-red hue and if one were to squint and turn their head just right, it almost looked like…

"It's a star," Kelly stated in wonderment, "Do you see it? It's like a little tattoo on your thigh," she giggled.

"It _is_ a star," Mavis murmured astonished. She traced the shape with the tip of her finger, feeling along the rough, bumpy surface, "The necklace," she recalled suddenly, thinking of Katiana's medal tucked away under her pillow just one deck below, "I had it in my pocket when the blast went off." She stared down at the brand in wonder, "Commander Shepard said that it might leave a mark."

She caressed the outline inquisitively, tapping at each of the points of the star, "You know," she began, "It's actually sort of cool," she admitted, "I mean, it probably doesn't look like much from a distance, but…it's like having my own little medal."

"You certainly earned it," Kelly told her fondly.

"Yeah," Mavis agreed, "I did, didn't I?"

Kelly beamed at her and Mavis was contented to find that for the first time since the accident, she could have something to smile about when thinking about it.

Mordin finished treating and looking over Mavis leg and after a light application of the burn cream he deemed Mavis fit to leave and Mavis for one was relieved to put her clothes back on. Kelly needed to elbow Mavis to get her to shake Mordin's hand before they left, but the redhead was willing to call today's interaction a success. It probably helped that Mavis had plenty to distract her from Mordin's visage as he worked. Now they only needed to raise Mavis' tolerance of Garrus.

"So how do you think Mikhail is going to react this," Mavis inquired worriedly as they entered the elevator.

"Horizon was home to quite a few retired soldiers," Kelly mused, "So I imagine he has probably seen a few people with scars before. Don't stress too much," she said, "how you look changes nothing. You're still Mavis."

"Pfft! Yeah, whoever Mavis is," Mavis said cynically.

"I still think you are worrying for nothing," Kelly sing-songed as they walked back to the Med Bay.

"You're probably right," Mavis sighed. Still, as she fingered the welts across the side of her face, she wondered if there was any chance Chakwas had some concealer to do a massive make-over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry about the lengthy delay. Two months without an update, I know shame on me. I honestly didn't intend to be this long gone. I'll try to be more prompt in the future.
> 
> In case anyone is curious, this is where I got the information about the sub dermal implants.  
> wiki/Codex/UPDATE:_Bring_Down_the_Sky  
> It seems like an understandable thing for the series, since one would probably want to rely on more than just an omni tool, since if an omni tool was damaged you would want a back up means of communication.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Review if you wish; feedback is always welcomed and necessary to help me improve.
> 
> Tune in next time :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting the disclaimer out of the way as usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I make no profit from posting this. So...I'm sorry this is another delayed update. Truth be told this chapter has been done for months and even uploaded to one of the other sites I feature my work on. I just sort of lost the motivation to go through the steps to upload it, I guess. Then I forgot about writing altogether as more drama went down in my life that I didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with on my own. I really need to be more motivated, but life happens and then my focus goes down the crapper.
> 
> Big thanks goes out to drellassassin for once again being my beta on another chapter. Thanks for being patient with me while I dragged my feet on getting this one up.

It had been a considerably long time since Garrus had been able to say he was well and truly bored.

He had done the calibrations, he had recalibrated them, he _re-recalibrated_ them—twice—and it was reaching the point that if he did anymore, he'd probably break the blasted thing out of some subconscious desire to provide himself with something more interesting to fiddle with. It was frustrating; the lack of activity to keep him busy, to give him the assurance he was actually accomplishing something was making him antsy. There was only so much he could do with the ships main battery before things got repetitive.

It reminded him of his time working for C-Sec near the end of his career there, back when all his efforts to unearth the corruption of Saren had been dismissed by a blind and ignorant bureaucracy. As if he could just let go of such a crucial case and return to settling drunken public disturbances or petty disputes between cheap shop owners and the customers they overcharged. He had been given a lead to something that was actually capable of harming thousands if not millions of lives and there was the Council trying to set an expiration date on how long he was actually allowed to investigate it. How would that garner real results? Wouldn't such a serious case deserve to be given all the time in the world to thoroughly look into every bit of evidence, or suspicion, rather than be rushed along and given a half assed 'well you tried, move on to something else'? Or was protecting the countless lives on the Citadel and the colonies not pressing enough a priority to warrant C-Sec's full capabilities? And don't even get him started on how the case with Dr. Saleon was handled; that still infuriated him.

When he first stepped aboard the Normandy, he knew he had made the right choice. There he had found someone else who was a strong believer of trusting her instinct and sticking to her guns when everyone else would ask that she holster them, and Garrus couldn't be more thankful for having met Shepard that day. He felt useful, like he was making a difference; and truly he was.

Boredom was an almost unheard thing back then. Down time was rare and even when one could afford to take a break from all geth and reaper related mayhem, there was never a dull moment. Between Shepard's gall and Joker's antics, coupled alongside of Wrex's gruff and discreet preference for destruction—as discreet as a Krogan can be anyway—the Normandy was constantly buzzing with life and excitement. Throw in Shepard's hidden stash of booze and you had a party. It was a rather immature and mentality, and probably a bit insensitive given all the tragedy that befell the universe around them during Saren's havoc, but by embracing every opportunity to laugh with such exuberance helped ease all their minds to the grim tasks at hand.

Tali had always been tinkering with something in the ship that she probably had no clearance to touch and Kaidan was always the butt of someone's—a certain snarky pilot's—jokes. Liara was a girl next door with never ending curiosity and overflowing with compassion and friendliness; more than willing to get lost in a rousing discussion or debate on just about any topic. She even tolerated Shepard's stubborn insistence that Pluto was still a planet and that Earth grown tomatoes were vegetables, not fruit. Ashley was the uptight girl who needed extra prodding to think outside her training and what was considered orthodox and a good drink and Shepard's nonstop peer pressure of the poor girl helped that. As distant as Ashley had been with Garrus at first, it wasn't hard to admit that even now he still missed that girl.

That's what made it so hard to go back to the Citadel when all was said and done. They had lost comrades in the fight against Sovereign. They had lost friends and the Council thought they could wipe away all their efforts, their sacrifices with a simple 'Crisis averted' and move on with life like nothing happened? Where was the justice in the so-called justice system?

And then to add insult on top of already insulting injury, when Shepard was killed the investigation into the attack was laughable. It too was brushed under the rug as a mere unfortunate occurrence in the Citadels otherwise 'safe' existence. They all but spat into the faces of those Garrus held dear and all that they had stood for and then turned around and expected him to return to playing the good little soldier for C-Sec as they stood by their stance of that there was bliss in ignorance.

So he left. He wasn't going to sit idly by when there was still something he could do to truly help others. He had seen the flaws in the justice system and he planned to reinvent them altogether. Omega was the perfect place for that. He had been helping others in what could only be described as the armpit of the Terminus System and considering how strife with conflict the Terminus System was in general, free from political control as it was, aid was long overdue. Garrus was more than willing to give that it and he was content to be making a difference again, if only for a short while.

But it was best not to dwell on what Sidonis did; not now. The point was that returning to the Normandy should have been a return to active duty; key word being active. It should have meant returning to the welcoming chaos of protecting the innocent from threats so insidious and cataclysmic that not even the Council wanted to admit they existed. And in a way that's what they were doing; a new threat had arisen and in all likelihood only Shepard and her crew were capable of putting the matter to rest. The mess on Horizon would be considered something of nightmares for some, but to Garrus and Shepard it had been just another day on the job. The overall disarray, that rush of adrenaline; it should have been like old times.

But things were different now. When all was said and done, the victories felt short lived and it didn't bear the same satisfaction of a job well done as it used to. This particular Normandy didn't feel right and not just because it was a new ship. It lacked the familiar warmth, that energy, that life that exuded from every crevice and panel of the former vessel. Garrus job felt a little stale without that spark of life, that excitement and the leftover adrenaline from Omega buzzing beneath his skin was maddening. Things felt dull and Garrus was antsy sitting around doing nothing.

Okay, so perhaps that was a lie. There was plenty he could be doing; eating, reading, maybe getting to know the rest of the crew so that perhaps Gardner would stop referring to him as Scarface and actually learn his name. But that wasn't what he wanted to do. In truth there was only one thing he wanted to be doing, or to be more specific there was one person he wanted to talk to and that person was too stubborn to sit down and hash things out. Understandably this left Garrus rather frustrated and in too foul a mood to do little more than fiddle with the calibrations until he was crossed eyed and his fingers hurt.

Shepard was avoiding him.

That was all there was to it. She knew he wanted to talk to her and she knew what he wanted to talk about. From how little he had seen of her since there talk in the mess hall a day or two before, it was clear Shepard had no intention of being caught and forced to rehash what was said.

Garrus stepped away from the battery console and sat down, rubbing at his neck to try and soothe the tension in his muscles. Desperate for a change of scenery, he left the battery room. It was strange for him to be so fidgety and yet so exhausted. Shepard's bullshit was tiring him out and wearing his patience paper thin.

For the past day or so he had tried to get Shepard alone for just a few minutes, but she must have made some deal with Miranda to get out of seeing him in exchange for listening to the woman talk business as she had conveniently needed to be at several private meetings with Ms. Lawson. Then when she was out, it was like they were playing hide and seek: Normandy edition.

Now Shepard wasn't a coward; she didn't run from that which scared her, and she rarely backed down from a challenge. But she was stubborn as a Krogan when she wanted to be and when push came to shove, she would do whatever it took to get things her way. If she didn't want to talk, she was going to fight tooth and nail to ensure no one made her.

EDI must have been helping her too. When someone told him that Shepard was speaking with Joker, she was nowhere to be seen when he arrived. Where she had once stood chatting about mission specs with Kelly, there was only empty air next to the Yeoman when Garrus got to the terminal. When she should have been having lunch, no trace of her presence was left but a tray with a still warm, half eaten bowl of soup. He was told that she was checking up on things in engineering but only Donnelly and Daniels were there to greet him, though a pack of cards Shepard tended to bring down to play with them was left behind. They sent him Jack's way but when he came down the stairs, he arrived a second too late and only caught sight of a shadow hastily shooting up the other stairwell. So yes, EDI had to be helping Shepard stay two steps ahead of him.

He didn't even bother going to the cargo hold when that tip came in. Even if he managed to corner Shepard there, it was where Zaeed tended to stay and he would do enough talking for the three of them. And Garrus still had his fill of storytime after the last tale colorful featuring a group of Vorcha prostitutes and a run in with their Elcor pimp, where—surprise, surprise—only Zaeed came out alive.

And of course everyone had felt the need to given their own 'helpful' advice and thrown in their two cents.

"Chasing down the girls, Garrus," Joker had taunted, "Funny, I would have thought those of a biosuit variety to be more your type."

Kelly looked so sympathetic it was almost a pitying expression. "I know what you want to talk about and trust me I understand exactly how you feel. Don't push her; Shepard will open up to us in time." Then she had patted him on the shoulder and walked off with a smile like all was right with the world.

Gardner just shrugged when asked where Shepard went and instead fixated on insisting that Garrus have a second helping; saying that Turians were too skinny to be healthy. "Seriously, didn't your mother ever feed you growing up?"

"Shepard?" Donnelly had asked, "Well she was here a few minutes ago—"

"—But she said she had something to talk to Jack about," Daniels cut in, as she was known to do, "You should check there."

"Perhaps you'd care for a quick game before you go?" Donnelly had asked eagerly, flashing Garrus the pack of cards, "I warn you, I'm a hard one to beat—"

"—And yet Shepard mops the floor with you within the first hand every time."

"She's the Commander, Gabby! I can't beat my commander at cards; it wouldn't be proper. At least I'm better than you."

"Oh, now I know you're full of it—"

Jack had only smirked at him when he came down the stairs and quipped, "Shepard sure is giving you the runaround, isn't she?"

He hadn't even stopped by Mordin's lab in his search and yet the Salarian had sought him out to give him his own personal opinion on the matter.

"You're attempts at gaining the element of surprise are admirable but….very flawed. Shepard will expect you coming, is going to be on alert. With her amount of training it is doubtful you will catch her off guard…your impressive track record aside."

So here Garrus was back to square one and no closer to talking to Shepard than when he woke up this morning. It left him more than a little ticked off, more so after having so many people throw such upbeat cheer or cheeky attitude his way when frankly he wasn't in the mood for games or a laugh.

If Shepard would only talk to him, really open up to him, they could clear the air and get back to some semblance of the way things used to be. If he really thought about it, Garrus had a good idea of what it was that felt so off about everything, what felt so wrong.

They needed closure.

Shepard needed closure.

So much had been left unsaid. Shepard needed to grieve, to let reality sink in and let go of past hurts and to a certain degree Garrus did too. He had left behind the rest of the crew when Shepard died. All that anger, the regret, the sorrow; he had to deal with that alone. Shepard hadn't dealt with it at all and it was beginning to take its toll on her. Whether she realized it or not, she was Garrus' best friend and he couldn't let her push herself past the breaking point like this, not if it meant losing her. If she would only admit she needed help and sit down and talk with him!

"Penny for your thoughts, Garrus?"

Shaken from his thoughts, Garrus turned to find Chakwas leaning against the doorway of her office staring at him inquisitively. His feet seemed to have brought him to the medbay without him even realizing it.

"You seem pretty troubled," Chakwas observed.

Garrus sighed, "It's that obvious, huh?"

"Probably not to them," Chakwas gestured the crew members congregating around Gardner's kitchen space, "I suppose only someone who really knows you would be able to recognize the signs." She adjusted her position against the doorframe, "It's the way you stand," she explained, "You carry the tension in your shoulders and your posture is stiffer."

"How observant of you."

Chakwas smiled. "Why don't you step inside for a moment," she offered, pushing away from the doorway and moving back into the medical bay, "We rarely get a chance to talk."

Garrus complied easily enough, stepping into the room and taking in a seat in the proffered chair Chakwas presented to him.

"I have a good idea of what's bothering you," Chakwas began as she sat down, "And it has to do with a Commander, doesn't it?"

Garrus slumped into his chair with a huff, "She's going to make me an old Turian before my time."

Chakwas chuckled, "Shepard certainly does have a talent for giving one a few extra wrinkles."

"You're telling me," Garrus agreed.

They sat there in silence for a few moments.

"Give her time, Garrus," Chakwas said finally.

Garrus groaned. "You sound just like Kelly," he said, running a hand over his face, "She's been saying the same thing."

"And you should listen to her."

"It's not that simple," Garrus insisted, "Shepard…" he sighed, "It's not good for her to hold all this in. It's not healthy."

"It probably isn't," Chakwas agreed, "But everyone handles hardships in their own way, Garrus. Think of this as one of many stages. Shepard is in the denial stage, or perhaps somewhere into the anger stage," she scratched her chin in thought, "Or perhaps a combination of the two. She's trying to cope by simply overlooking what she's been through altogether. She fears that if she takes a moment to sort her feelings she is going to be overcome by them. In Shepard's mind, there is no room for weakness."

"But it isn't weakness," Garrus interjected, "Its trauma. The drinking, the aggression, all her nightmares; if anything this is some sort of PTSD!"

"And it very well may be," Chakwas stated, "But that doesn't mean Shepard is willing to accept it. Not yet anyway." She leaned forward in her chair and patted Garrus' knee reassuringly, "She's not ready to move on yet and if you push her now you will only be pushing her over the edge yourself. I can't claim to know what goes on inside her head, but the Shepard I know never did well with not being in control. Losing Ashley, the Normandy, her own life…well, that's a lot of things she had no control in and I imagine that has made her losses harder to cope with. Then Cerberus comes along and decides that they're going to bring her back from the dead and enlist her services; yet again an occasion where the control was completely out of her hands."

"That is why you aren't going to get anywhere but forcing the issue," Chakwas continued, "That will only make her want to resist and bottle it all up more. If you give her time to come around, she'll be more willing to accept help because she will be the one calling the shots if and when she gets help. It needs to be on her terms. The only way she is going to get herself under control is to truly feel like she is the one in control. You do understand what I mean?"

"Somewhat," Garrus admitted, "But I'd feel a lot better if Shepard would let me help her."

"And she will," Chakwas assured him, "But only if you give her time," she pinched her brow, "I admit, if it were anyone else I would highly suggest an intervention by now and possible and removal from active duty. But I have faith in our Commander. She'll give herself a good kick and take the steps to sort this out soon enough."

Garrus huffed tiredly, "If that's what you think is best," he said, standing up, "I guess I'll head Starboard and see if there is anything interesting worth reading in the Observation room there."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Chakwas smiled warmly at him, in an almost motherly sort of way, "In the meantime if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." She eyed him knowingly, "You're back among friends now, Garrus. Don't be afraid to do a little opening up yourself."

Garrus nodded with a small smile in return, "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"See that you do."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who has been reading this story for a long while now, this update may be confusing to you as it is a chapter you've already read before under a different chapter number, technically for you this is not an update and you are missing nothing, so if you have been reading along from the first time I posted on her ever, don't bother with this chapter as you've already read it. The NEXT chapter (whenever I finish writing it) is the one that will be new to you as I haven't finished it and therefore haven't uploaded it anywhere. 
> 
> I am going to be changing the numbering of the chapters. Now instead of them being long chapters, I am dividing those long chapters into two smaller chapters each. So now Chapter 1 has been divided into two chapters, making it Chapter one and two, and the rest of the story follows as such. The content of the story is still the same, the only thing that is changed is the chapters numbers and the fact that now events you may have read all together in one chapter have been broken into two parts. I did this after being informed by readers that the long endless chapters were a tad off putting for anyone looking for a fun read rather than a novel a day.
> 
> Getting the disclaimer out of the way as usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I make no profit from posting this.

Entering the Starboard Observation room, Garrus wasn't surprised to find he wasn't alone. With the constant coming and going of activity on the crew deck, the observation rooms had been designed specifically with recreational needs in mind and by the looks of it no expenses were spared in making the rooms as comfy and inviting as possible for the average employee looking to unwind. It wasn't unusual for several crewmembers to be lazing about on the couches or playing a few rounds of poker in between shifts. But today the one occupying the space wasn't a crew member and Garrus hadn't exactly been prepared for them to cross paths.

She was standing in front of the window with her back to him, leaning against the large expanse of glass. She did so gingerly, as if she thought it was going to shatter under her weight at any given moment and send her falling out into the vacuum of space. The hair on the right side of her head was messy and mussed like she had just woken up recently; had she been napping? Various scars traced themselves across her scalp and down the back of her neck. The ugly red patches disappeared under the neckline of the baggy oversized shirts she wore—they must have given her one of the men's spare uniforms—and trailed down the underside of the arm he could actually see.

Garrus considered leaving before she spotted him, but at that moment she must have realized she wasn't alone and she turned to him and they both stiffened in surprise.

He had known from the beginning that the fire had done a number on her, but it was still a bit of a shock to see just how much damage it had done. Her skin seemed paler when offset by the angry red tint of the scars cutting jagged lines across her brow and cheekbone. It twisted one corner of her lips ever so slightly and it was obvious that her left eye would never open as fully as her right one unless a surgeon took the time to cut the melted skin back from the corner into a more aesthetically pleasing shape so she no longer looked like she was squinting.

He couldn't help but chide himself for the small voice in the back of his mind that seem to find some relief in knowing his own scarring had not been as severe.

"…Good afternoon, Mavis," Garrus offered in a friendly tone, internally cringing as the woman seized up in alarm at the sight of him, "I hope I'm not bothering you. I wasn't aware you would be here." 'And EDI should have had the foresight to warn me,' he thought ruefully.

Mavis made no effort to reply and remained pressed against the edge of the window rigidly. Her change in position let Garrus see that she had been reading before he arrived, a relatively new book open between her hands. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes had widened considerably despite the limitations of her left and her skin was rapidly losing what little color it had as if it had been washed right out of her.

There was still time to leave before she started screaming like the last time she had seen him and a part of Garrus was strongly considering the option. Still he stayed; the two of them would have to talk sooner or later.

"I thought I would come in here for a bit of light reading, like you," he explained, gesturing towards the book clenched tightly in Mavis' hands. Offhandedly he couldn't help but notice that the fire had robbed her of several of her fingernails. "Is that a good read?" he asked, searching for some casual conversation to try and lighten the mood.

Mavis did not respond and just continued to play living statue.

"Is that one fiction? Nonfiction?"

Nothing.

"Would you say it has a riveting plot?"

Still nothing.

What was it Garrus once heard Shepard say? Something about how in an old movie the protagonists tried to claim that some creature's—Tyranno…saurus?— eyesight was entirely based on movement and if you stayed still it wouldn't see you even when looking right at you? Garrus had a feeling that was the tactic Mavis was trying out.

"I uh…" Garrus cleared his throat awkwardly, "I could leave if you want…?"

Mavis still did not move.

"Listening, I didn't mean to frighten you," Garrus started, taking a step forward without thinking.

Mavis squeaked and squeezed herself tighter into the corner.

Garrus stepped back, hands in the air placatingly, "I wasn't going to do anything. It's okay."

It seemed strange to him that she hadn't started freaking out or yelling by now. Last time they saw each other she had been quite vocal in her objections. This time though she seemed to be afraid to even make a sound. Instead, her eyes kept darting back and forth between him and the couch.

Curious, Garrus slid into the room more and stepped forward, Mavis watching him like a hawk all the while. Taking care to edge around the far side of the room as far away from her as possible, he peered around the couch and found Mikhail curled up sound asleep amongst the pillows.

"Oh," Garrus said, "Wasn't even aware he was here. Didn't want to wake him, huh?" he sent Mavis a searching glance, "That's rather sweet of you. But you know, it probably isn't that good for him to be sleeping during the day," he continued, reaching forward to tap Mikhail's shoulder, "Otherwise he won't sleep through the night—"

"Don't wake him!" Mavis cut in with a hushed whisper, making Garrus pause.

Dropping the book in her hands, she stared at him with a nervous mixture of protectiveness and deer caught in the headlights. Slowly, timidly, she edged her way closer to the couch, eyes transfixed on Garrus in a sort of paranoid gaze. Her eyes ran to where his hand hovered over Mikhail and back up to his face and taking the hint Garrus stepped back several paces.

Seeming only the tiniest bit satisfied with his distance, Mavis slipped onto the edge of the couch by Mikhail's head, situating the child so that his face nestled against the curve of her hip. "He's tired," she muttered curtly, "He didn't sleep through the night."

"I see," Garrus nodded hesitantly, "Trouble sleeping?"

"…Yeah."

Garrus scratched the back of his head, not sure what to say next. Mavis didn't seem too keen on keeping the conversation going so no help there.

"Listen," He began, "I think we got off to a bad start when we first met. I know my kind seems very unfamiliar and probably scary to you, but trust me when I say that you have nothing to fear from me."

Mavis didn't reply. Watching him distrustfully, she placed a hand on Mikhail's head, brushing hair away from him face.

Garrus shifted awkwardly, "I've got to be honest; I'm not used to getting this sort of reaction from a person. It's the first time anyone has ever looked at me like…well that," he waved a hand in her direction, "Like I'm some sort of monster. I mean, I'm one of the tamer races out there when it comes to appearance. If you think I'm scary, I can only imagine what your first encounter with a Vorcha will be like—not that they're monster either," he backtracked, seeing the horrified look on Mavis' face, "Well, I mean they're not the nicest people around, but…I wouldn't call them monsters. Just creeps—no wait, that came out wrong…" he sighed, "Look, all I wanted to say was that you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm one of the good guys. Honest; in fact I make it my life's work to help those who are in trouble. I'll lay down my life for a citizen if need be."

Mavis watched him carefully, seeming to give his words some thought. Still, she didn't look convinced.

"I don't know if you remember," Garrus tried a new approach, "But I was one of the crewmates with Shepard when she found you on Horizon. I carried you back to the Normandy. You had us worried for while there. I tried to talk you down when we found you; I don't think you could understand a word of it, though."

Mavis looked like she wanted to say something, but she kept her mouth closed. Still, a glimmer of recognition sparked in her eyes. She remembered the cold touch of hands upon her face, not human hands, and words whispered to her, to foreign to understand. In her delirious state she thought she had imagined it.

"You're going to have to get used to me sooner or later," Garrus continued, "I won't be the last Turian you meet and the Citadel is the home of many different races. If you don't adjust, life is going to be very difficult for you there. You can't spend your life afraid of other races."

Mavis looked away, glaring angrily at the wall. Garrus thought he heard her mumble something.

"What was that?"

"I'm not afraid," she stammered stubbornly, "I'm not. I'm not a child. And I'm not a coward! It's just," she looked at him briefly, her eyes running along his features, "It's unreal. It's not natural…"

Garrus couldn't help himself; he snorted, "Well I supposed I've heard more offensive things about my race in the past."

"I wasn't trying to be offensive!" Mavis snapped, then seemed to remember who it was she was talking to and shrank back into the couch nervously, "Jeff…Joker said that people who are afraid of Aliens are xenophobes…well I'm not one. I'm not," she insisted, more to herself than to Garrus, "I'm just…this is all new to me."

"Of course it is," Garrus responded kindly, "You know, if it makes you feel any better, most humans had the same reaction when Turians first made contact with them."

"R-really?" Mavis asked disbelievingly.

"That's right," Garrus nodded, "In fact; we went to war when we first met."

"You did?"

"Yes. The Relay 314 Incident."

"The what?"

"Well I suppose humans would know it as the First Contact War," Garrus clarified, "You could say it started over a big misunderstanding; if I'm honest with myself the Turian government handled the first encounter poorly and things sort of spiraled out of control from there. But we worked things out. Relations between humans and Turians are better now. Not perfect; but better than they were."

"I'm not xenophobic."

"I wasn't saying you were," Garrus abated, "Neither were the humans. We were just unfamiliar to them. It was natural to be wary of us considering how we met."

"I'm not a coward either…" Mavis muttered petulantly.

"And I don't think you are," Garrus assured her, "You proved that on Horizon. We reviewed security footage of the attack," he treaded carefully around the subject, knowing it was a sensitive topic, "You were pretty brave down there."

"I didn't feel brave," Mavis admitted, "I was just trying to run away. Those things…they were freakish. I doubt I ever saw anything like them even before I lost my memory. I was terrified…but that doesn't mean I'm xenophobic, even if those things are aliens!"

Garrus raised his hands in surrender, "Hey I get it. Trust me; you aren't the only one who found those them unsettling. Most believe the Collectors to be a myth, just some made up story to scare people. Knowing without a doubt that they are real isn't very comforting for anyone."

"They were awful," Mavis stated, shuddering.

"Yeah, they were," Garrus agreed.

"So…" Mavis eyed him carefully, "Come to gawk?"

"What?" Garrus asked.

Mavis gestured to her face.

"Oh," Garrus started, "Oh, no! I was just coming in here to read. I only just heard your bandages came off. It's actually not that bad," he lied, "Better than I expected."

Mavis didn't look convinced.

They sat in silence for a minute or two just watching the stars twinkle outside, neither saying a word.

"He cries at night," Mavis said finally, "Mikhail," she elaborated, "In his sleep."

Garrus listened quietly, unsure what to say.

"He calls out for his mom sometimes," Mavis went on, combing her fingers through Mikhail's hair, "and his dad. Sometimes he wakes up crying and nothing I say can make him go back to sleep." She stared off into space, her eyes dull and sad, "I just sing to him, songs I remember, about people I can't recall. But he usually keeps crying. By morning he doesn't remember anything; just that he's tired." She swallowed thickly, "I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted, rubbing at her eyes.

"…And what about you?" Garrus asked after a moment, "Do you have nightmares too?"

"I…" Mavis shook her head, "It's not important…" she turned away, "I don't want to talk about it."

"There's seems to be a lot of that attitude going around lately," Garrus muttered.

Mavis looked at him strangely but didn't comment on it.

"I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to," Garrus assured her.

"Thanks," Mavis said hesitantly.

"But really, you did the right thing down there," Garrus told her, "You protected Mikhail, you saved him. Not everyone would have done what you did."

"I supposed not…" Mavis relented, "Do you think…do you mind leaving?" she asked, bringing her legs up onto the couch and tucking her knees up against her chest. "I actually just want to be alone right now."

Garrus frowned, "Of course," he said, understandingly, "I should probably get back to work. Lots to do. But I meant what I said; you don't have to be so nervous around me. If anything I hoped we could be friends if possible." He held his hand out to her.

Mavis cringed slightly, leaning away from him, "I…" she eyed his hand warily, "I'm…"

"Right," Garrus let his hand drop to his side, "I…guess I'll get back to work." He headed for the door, "It was nice to see you, Mavis." Then he left.

Mavis would sit there for a long time afterwards, just watching Mikhail sleep and wishing she could do the same.

* * *

 

_It was pretty much a ghost town when they arrived. The rumble of their shuttle and the crackling of the scattered fires were all that reached their ears. There was no bustle of life where they stood; no laughter of children or the gossip of neighbors. No calls of worried mothers and fathers beckoning their kid's home for dinner, not even the sound of a bird could be detected._

_It was lifeless; empty and cold._

_They landed by a rocky formation on the outskirts of storage or utility area while the sun was still high in the sky and yet their vision was hindered by the lofting haze of smoke over their heads; too thick for the sun to pierce through at its usual intensity._

_It was eerie, unnerving even, but she had a job to do. She loaded her gun and looked to her teammates, waiting for their signal. When it looked like they were ready she gave the command and they moved out._

_Their initial search proved fruitless, the area around them was completely void of life and any signs of where everyone had gone had been lost among the low hanging smoke and the scorched and charred debris and property strewn across the grass. She passed what appeared to be a turret and noted it was unscathed, untouched; whoever lived here hadn't even been given a chance to reach it when the attack started._

_Up above, out in the distance, she could see them flying about._

_The swarm. And it had backup._

_As soon as she was spotted, the battle began._

_They rained down from the sky upon her and her team in no time at all. The massive heads and glowing eyes honing in on her location, they unleashed a barrage of firepower that sent her ducking for cover. The swarm flitted uselessly over them and she almost felt like laughing; they wouldn't be able to harm her, not like they had the innocent._

**Something was off…**

_She wasn't wholly surprised when the ship's communications were blocked, those crafty bastards wouldn't be keen on her calling in reinforcements and even out the odds of her three to their…countless numbers._

_Another one opened fired on her as she attempted to change position and grazed her shoulder with enough force to do considerably more than sting. The next hail of gun rounds sent her darting behind a storage container, her team narrowly doing the same._

_"On your right!"_

_Dodging heavy weapon fire kept her preoccupied enough that she almost missed the flash of blue and gray out of the corner of her eye. Spinning out of reach, the swinging claws missed her by inches. Why did they have those things with them?! She had thought she had seen the last of them two years ago!_

_Cursing, she healed her wounded shoulder—cursing all the more for the wasted medi gel—and took off for the next bit of cover._

_The details were hazy…_

_There were cocoons everywhere. People were set up like living statues on stairwells and in doorways. Some even still had their guns. She was so jumpy she almost fired on one frozen man when she rounded a corner and came face to face with the end of his gun._

_Time was jumping around…scenes were missing…_

_"I'm assuming direct control," it said, garbled and clicking, "This is true power…"_

_Its glowing yellow eyes watched on in disinterest._

**Scenes were new…**

_One of them was glowing now, sparking with unknown power seeping out from the cracks in its skin looking like a terrain of magma and ash._

_The glow jumped from body to body. When one went down a new one would be randomly jerked into the air like a ragdoll by some unseen force and taken over as well._

_Things weren't making sense…_

_The man they encountered was angry, lost in a wave of his own paranoia and distrust. He spoke of her old teammate stationed among them and in his anger he unknowingly demanded answers and saviors from the former comrades of the very Alliance he saw unfit to protect him._

_He mentioned the defense towers being inactive; that the targeting system would need to be recalibrated. That was all she needed to hear._

**Everything was jumbled…**

_There were new beasts now, hideous monstrosities of pulsating bulges of sinew lurching towards her. Organs jiggled around on the sacks on its back, creating a scene so disgusting she was almost too distracted to throw up her shield when it fired at her from a canon grafted to its shoulder._

_More of that strange voice, there were more Cocoons, more glowing vessels of near unstoppable force, less and less frozen humans. They must be almost done._

_There was the defense tower!_

**What was going on?**

_They were surrounded. Guns were blazing, those creatures were screaming, and more and more of them kept raining down from the sky. They were blowing through her defenses like it was tissue paper and she was going through medi gel like it was candy. More of those massive monsters were lumbering her way and blocking her only way to the tower, hurling shockwaves at her that shook the ground._

_If she could just clear a way to the transmitter…_

_Something was…off…_

_Calibrations were finally underway and their communication were online again, but—_

_"Assuming direct control…"_

_There it was again! Every time she wore through their defenses, it would seize control of another pawn and wreak havoc all over again._

_And what the hell was that?!_

_A creature—or machine?—far more insidious than the others, hovered in the air like some mechanical, misshapen beetle. Round after round of lasers it fired at them. It took everything she had to not let it get the upper hand. She tried to call out to her team, to give commands, but her voice got swallowed up by the blasts._

_Something felt…wrong…_

_If she could just get a decent shot on it…_

_"This is true power…"_

_Why was everything so blurry?_

_"This is true power…"_

_It seemed no matter where she ran the thing had a bead on her. She couldn't evade it._

**She felt so…disconnected…**

_"This is true power…"_

_Almost…there…_

**What…**

_"This is true power…"_

_Whose voice is that?!_

_"This is true power…"_

* * *

 

On opposite ends of the Normandy, two people woke up from fitful sleep. One woke up in a cold sweat; one woke up screaming.

One name was on both their lips.

"Harbinger!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...woah. I just realized how long it has actually been since I put up a chapter on this site for this story. Like I said, this chapter went up on a different site I frequent, but even then that was a while back. But this long? Yikes!
> 
> My humblest apologies to anyone out there still kind enough to hang in there with me on this story. I feel horrible for letting the hiatus last so long, especially when I never intended to be on hiatus and thus never informed any of my readers of a planned absence.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me and to any new readers, I welcome you. I hope my inconsistent posting habits do not put you off.
> 
> Read, review and of course enjoy! :)
> 
> P.S. Feedback makes me smile and feeds the plotbunnies. Feed them. Don't let the bunnies starve.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back in business, babies! I want to thank Phil Scades from ff.net for being such a big help with this chapter. I wouldn't have been able to make this chapter happen without his dedication and patience. 
> 
> Getting the disclaimer out of the way as usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. I make no profit from posting this.

“This is your pilot speaking,” the voice of one too-easily-amused Flight Lieutenant came out loud and clear over the intercom of the Normandy.

Shepard groaned, slumping farther into her chair. One of these days she would adjust the volume settings on the intercom feed in her cabin; regular volume Joker was hard enough to deal with. Loudspeaker volume was torture. Tugging at the compress on her face, she slipped down more into the plush upholstery with a whine.

“Just wanted to let you know,” Joker prattled on, “through nothing short of my impeccable skills and talents by the way, we've safely reached the Citadel and will be docking shortly.”

“At this time I'd like to ask you,” he continued, adopting a feminine, overly perky flight attendant impression, “to put your seats in an upright position, put away your tray tables, and also, it is important to note that 'the fasten your seat belt' light will stay lit for the remainder of the flight. The loading bay is for loading and unloading questionable dangerous cargo only, including but not limited to food supplies, ammunition, red sand, and trigger happy mercenaries hiding in the cargo bay.”

If Shepard strained hard enough, she could swear she heard the crew laughing only a few decks below.

Joker it seemed was just getting started in his morning announcements, “The exits can be located at the front and rear of the aircraft and emergency exits can be found to the left, right, and anywhere else depending on what you use to blast yourself out of here during a fiery inferno. In case of emergency we ask you to assume crash positions, which would be to put your head between your knees and kiss your ass—hey! No...wait a sec—ow!”

“—This a simple routine stop off, everyone,” a clipped, British voice said, “We will be gathering supplies and hope to be up and running again in under a few days. This is not shore leave,” Miranda reminded the crew sternly, “do _not_ get comfortable. That is all.” Then the announcement abruptly ended. Of course Miranda wouldn’t appreciate Joker's ad libbing to the crew. She was never that big a fan of his humor.  Shepard wanted to grin, but it came out more of a grimace and she winced painfully.  Shepard didn’t care what anyone said; taking on a whole fleet of geth was better than one of her legendary migraines.

Shepard fidgeted restlessly in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position. After another fitful night of nightmares, the exhausted commander had moved to sit in the corner of the room and read away fleeting nocturnal terrors, but as the waning hours of night had passed, an awful throbbing bloomed behind her eyes,leaving Shepard trapped in the current pitiful state. Turning off all the lights had only helped marginally, not even the tranquil glow of the fishtanks helped. _‘Definitely off to a slow start,’_ Shepard mused, filled with stubborn pride at having beaten Joker’s best effort to hack the cabin terminal with a slew of obnoxious wake up calls (every. Fifteen. SECONDS!). Shepard would get these few moments of peace; mark her words.

In a way, Shepard couldn’t blame their pilot. The excitement was contagious and even she was feeling the thrum of anxious anticipation. She honestly couldn’t wait to get off the ship, maybe have a couple of drinks at her favorite club. So Shepard couldn’t really expect Joker to be less of...well, himself, when under less headache induce circumstance, she would have been in just as playful a mood, if not more so. Hell, the whole ship was abuzz with barely contained excitement. Too short a break to be considered shore leave, of course, but that didn’t stop the crew from eagerly awaiting the moment the Normandy docked.

Shepard made a mental note to keep an eye on some of her more...adventurous crew members. The Citadel may be one of the safer places in the galaxy (debatable in her opinion), but if there was anyone who could make chaos out of nothing, it would be her crew.

“Hey Commander!”

It sounded like Joker had finally managed to bypass her intercom block. Great…

Shepard groaned; how did that man stay so chipper?

Heaving herself up out of her blessedly comfy chair, Shepard trudged over to the desk. With every step, she found the incessantly blinking messenger lights becoming even more and more infuriating. The piercing flashes split the darkness of the room and seemed to drill straight into her poor, migraine pained eyes. Briefly, she entertained the thought that Miranda might have purposed request they be designed as such just to piss Shepard off when she was having an ‘off day’. Shepard wouldn’t put it passed that woman and she made a note to ask EDI later to arrange some form of obnoxious wake up call for Miranda the next morning. Something with an air raid siren, if possible.

Hitting the reply button with more force than necessary--she may have been imagining it was Miranda’s face--she grumbled into the receiver, “What is it, Joker?”

“Oh, so you're actually answering me now?”Joker drawled, “Good; I was beginning to think you'd died in there or something. Maybe wandered to the wrong side of the extranet last night, possibly given yourself a fatal heart attack.”

“Funny, Joker,” Shepard groused.

“No really,” Joker persisted, “I'm actually glad that wasn't the case. I mean it would have fallen to me and Garrus to erase your browser history so you wouldn't be dubbed posthumously as some sort of Fornax aficionado.”

“Just like I'm sure if anything happen to you it would be up to me to ensure no one other than me and EDI ever finds out just what it is _you_ look up when you're in the cockpit,” Shepard quipped.

Momentary silence met her from the other end of the line, “...touche,” Joker said finally, “Well,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Now I know that my private time isn't so private. _Anyway_ , I was wondering if you planned on making an appearance today before we actually dock. Miranda is starting to drive some of us crazy down here and we could use a bit of your oh so charming attitude down here.”

“Awww, is she sucking the fun out of the room again?” Shepard teased. A smile worked itself across her face only to be beaten down by another throb of pain a second later.

“Just get down here before she’s ‘accidentally’ sucked out an airlock, okay?” Joker pleaded.

“Okay, okay,” Shepard acquiesced, “I'm on my way down.” Cutting their connection before Joker could reply, Shepard took one last glance at her peaceful room and headed for the elevator.

Kelly greeted her same as always when she got to the CIC. “Hello, Commander! Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“As well as can be expected,” Shepard lied, not wanting to go into a discussion about her latest dream, “Got a bit of a headache, but I’m more than willing to blame that on Joker squawking nonstop since he woke up. Is everything ready here?”

“Ready and waiting,” Kelly confirmed, “Joker’s been hoping you’d stop by this morning. I take it that’s where you’re headed now?”

 In the end, Shepard spared Joker only a brief greeting in exchange for the praise of ending of Miranda's reign for the day before heading off to find said woman. Normally she would have done her best to shirk any sort of meeting with Miranda, but with the likeliness that EDI already informed Miranda of her most recent dream being so high, Miranda would no doubt be expecting her. 

Just like Kelly said, she found Miranda in the armory with Jacob. She didn't have to wait long for Miranda to notice her.

“Shepard,” Miranda greeted calmly, dismissing Jacob with a wave of her hand, “I was hoping to talk to you before we reached the Citadel.”

“Yeah I figured you did,” Shepard rolled her head, stretching out the kinks in her neck, “Listen, let’s make this quick. I’ve got some headache relief medicine down in med bay with my name on it,” she rubbed her forehead for emphasis, “So how much do you know?”

“Only that you haven't been sleeping well,” Miranda replied, falling into step alongside Shepard,“And that you've been having some unsettling dreams. Last night was the worst one yet; it induced an audible response from you.” She paused once they were inside the communications room, “Harbinger,” she stated plainly, turning to fix Shepard with a curious glance, “Does that word mean anything to you?”

“I'd like to say it doesn't,” Shepard said grimly, “It shouldn't. But I, uh,” she crossed her arms and leveled Miranda with her intense, ruby gaze, a side effect of her struggle to always stay on the right and narrow in this war, “I think it's a reaper.”

“You think?” Miranda questioned.

Shepard nodded, “Or it has something to do with the Reapers at the very least.” She walked towards the center of the room, collecting her thoughts, “Last night, I dreamed of when we were down on Horizon. It seemed like a mere memory at first, but there was something new this time,” she waved her hands in front of her, like she was trying to shape her words into something tangible to better get her point across, “A...a presence was there, like something watching me.”

“I imagine the Reapers are always watching you to some degree, Shepard,” Miranda pointed out, “You’re the only one who could likely stop them.”

“I don't mean they were watching me,” Shepard interjected, “Well, not exactly. It was like...something was monitoring me, monitoring us, even the collectors. I heard something,” she threw out to stall any of Miranda’s interruptions, “A voice.”

“What did it say?” Miranda inquired.

“That's just the thing; I don't know!” Shepard told her, “I couldn’t make it out--or I can’t recall it--or something like that. But it wasn't the Collectors, I know that much. It didn’t communicate like them; none of the chirping or clicking or whatever they did. I-it _sounded_ like real words, but for the life of me I can't remember anything it said!” She stopped her pacing and smoothed her hands over her face; her migraine was getting worse. “But it was always there,” she continued, “Every time one of the Collectors started—what was it? Glowing?—whenever it did that,I could hear it, the voice I mean. One of them would suddenly get stronger, suddenly have more skills than the others and there that voice would be. Intel, it had to be feeding them intel or some sort. How else could they improve that fast?”

“And Harbinger?” Miranda prodded.

“The word came to me,” Shepard elaborated, “Right before I woke up, things stopped being a memory and got all...crazy,” she scratched her head, “It's hard to explain. It didn't feel like a memory, but not the typical dream level of crazy either; none of it felt made up by my subconscious. I'm sure that it wasn't. It felt real. It had to be.”

“I have no reason to doubt you,” Miranda assured her, “I trust your instincts here. Quite simply put, if more people had acted on your suspicions of Sovereign, then we may not have lost nearly so many lives two years ago.” She straightened up, prim and authoritatively, “Well, Shepard I thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will of course need to discuss this possible evidence with the Illusive Man.”

“Figured you would,” Shepard replied, “Well I should probably make sure everyone is prepared to dock. Let me know if he thinks it's of any importance.” _'Although chances are you won't tell me anymore than you need to,'_ she thought with just a tad bit of annoyance. “Oh, one more thing,” Shepard added as Miranda made to leave, “I...you know how I said it felt like I was being watched? Well, it-it’s more complicated than that.”

“Oh,” Miranda inquired, “And what exactly is more complicated than possibly being watched by an unseen or omnipotent presence bent on your destruction?”

Shepard rolled her eyes, exasperated, “I don't know, it's hard to explain. Listen,” she scratched her head, “down there—in my dream, I mean—I felt like that thing—whatever it could be—wasn't the only thing watching me...” She bit her lip, trying to organize her thoughts, “It felt like...like I had someone running along behind me...like a bystander or something. It didn't make my skin crawl like the other presence did. Does that make sense?”

Miranda stood in silence scrutinizing her, “No,” she said after a moment, “But that doesn't mean we shouldn't look into it. At this point we can't afford to overlook anything. The last time someone did, the Citadel was almost reduced to a heap of steaming space debris.” She regarded Shepard carefully. “Anything you have on the Reapers, dream or otherwise, will be taken seriously. It's better to be safe than sorry.”

“Glad to hear it,” Shepard agreed, “We'll talk more later.” She gave Miranda a curt nod of farewell and left.

* * *

 

 

“We'll be docking in a few minutes,” Chakwas said, turning to her patients, “You two must be excited.”

Mikhail nodded eagerly, bouncing with excitement, “I get to see my Aunts! Ooh, and my cousin! I haven't seen them since my birthday!”

Mavis smiled but it came out as more of a grimace. “I don't suppose there is a strictly human section of the Citadel, is there?”

“We've covered this before, Mavis,” Chakwas chided tiredly, “There aren't any districts or wards on the Citadel that are segregated specifically by race. Though I suppose there are a few more isolated wards catering mostly to humans...But trust me, taking up residence there is not something you want to do,” Chakwas stated when she saw how Mavis perked up.

Mavis frowned, “Why not?” she asked.

Chakwas shrugged, “There's a certain type of person you find there and I don't think they’re your kind of people'. Terra Firma, third party political extremists...How can I put this?” she tapped her lower lip in thought, “Space racists? I think that's how Joker puts it. Now, Terra Firma itself isn't extremist group per say; just close minded. However their platform is often times a beacon for some of the worst kind of xenophobes. At this point just associating with them puts others in a bad light” she waved one of her hands in a flippant gesture, “Since you are quite adamant that you don’t hate aliens, I think you'll agree with me that it’s best not to falling into a ‘humans only’ crowd.”

Mavis deflated, “yeah,” she conceded, “I guess you're right. But what about the ship? Aside from you and a small handful of people, no one here thinks it’s that important that I get used to aliens.”

Chakwas frowned, glancing out the med bay windows out into the mess hall at the crew, “That's because they're Cerberus operatives,” she explained, voice heavy with disappointment, “It’s a group focused mainly on human endeavors.”

Mavis tilted her head, perplexed, “So they fight against crime...but only crimes against humans?”

“That's one way of putting it,” Chakwas said reluctantly, “They’re all perfectly nice people. I don't believe anyone here has any real qualms with xenos, but it's not like getting along with them is a top priority. Cerberus is run by humans, for humans and about humans, they don't do much in regards to aliens. Having Garrus and Mordin here is a first for many of them.”

Mikhail must have thought that was the perfect time to completely derail the conversation, because he dropped one hell of a bombshell on Mavis when he said, “My Aunt’s an alien.”

Both women turned to him in surprise. They had almost forgotten him standing there.

Mavis eyed Mikhail warily, “Say what?”

“My Auntie Eelun,” Mikhail stated, “She's married to Auntie Anna. Auntie Anna's human; Eelun isn't.”

Mavis blinked, “And you didn't think to tell me this before because...?”

Mikhail shrugged, “You never asked,” he said merrily, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Mavis stared at him in shock. How the hell could Mikhail forget something so important? It left Mavis wondering if, in her life before all this, she had actually liked children. Resisting the urge to tear out her remaining hair, Mavis took a deep breath and sat back heavily on one of the med bay beds, “And I’m supposed to go live with you and your aunts,” she muttered, “Greaaaaaaat...” Mavis sprawled out across the bed, folding her arms over her chest and closing her eyes. “It isn’t too late for me to flatline and pass on, right?” she asked wearily.

Chakwas only laughed and Mikhail didn’t get the joke.

* * *

 

 

Shepard walked through the bridge, feeling much better since her trip to the med bay. “We're docking, everyone,” She announced, “You've all been given your duties, you know what needs to be done. Let's try to avoid any mishaps for at least the first few hours, shall we?”

“No can do, Commander,” Joker replied as Shepard reached him, “It's right here in my job requirements.” He pretended to bring up a file on his terminal, “Ah yes, it says ‘Cause mayhem and destruction that your commanding officer gets blamed for’...so I'm afraid my hands are tied, Commander.”

Shepard reached out and pulled Joker's cap down over his eyes before giving orders to EDI to dock the ship. Leaving her pilot indignantly balking behind her, Shepard headed to the elevators to give the ship one last survey before they landed.

Sparing Kelly a friendly wave, Shepard went down to the lower decks to make sure Zaeed and Jack understood they were to behave themselves while off the ship. She could handle the usual level of mayhem that followed her like a shadow, but Shepard really didn't want a certain merc and their resident felon getting into any astronomical trouble. Not yet anyway; usually that level of insanity was saved for the suicide missions. Shepard had only just stepped off the elevator when she happened upon a peculiar conversation.

“What do you mean, she's missing?” Came the voice of one very irate doctor. Chakwas stood before Gardner's counter, hands planted firmly on her hips.

“I didn't say missing,” Gardner protested, “I just said she left the med bay. Said she was taking Mikhail to the bathroom and the two of them went that way,” Gardner pointed down the hall.

“They're not in the ladies room, I just checked,” Chakwas said peevishly, “I checked the men’s room too, so where else can they be?”

“Am I interrupting something?” Shepard asked as she came up to the counter, “We're not talking about our duo of colonists, are we?”

“I'm sorry, Shepard,” Chakwas apologized, “I went to speak with Garrus and Mavis must have taken off with Mikhail while I was gone. I was only out for a few minutes. When I came back they were nowhere to be found.”

“Why take off now, though?” Shepard inquired, “I thought Mikhail was looking forward to seeing his relatives.”

“I suspect this has more to do with Mavis than Mikhail,” Chakwas replied, “Mikhail may have neglected to inform Mavis that his aunt's partner isn't human, but an Asari.”

Shepard eyebrow rose, “What?”

Chakwas shrugged, “I’m just as surprised as you. Mavis was...less than enthused about it. Considering she is expected to live with them indefinitely, she isn’t taking the news well.”

“An Asari,” Shepard repeated, confused, “Why weren't we informed sooner? Doesn’t this sort of complicate things?”

“From what I understand, with all that Kelly’s been doing since Horizon—the incident reports, scouring the colony's record for any trace of Mavis' background—when she contacted Mikhail's next of kin, she was more concerned with making sure Mikhail had somewhere to go. C-Sec is in charge of family background checks in custody matters like this; so I guess Kelly didn’t feel it necessary to look further into it.”

“Great,” Shepard groused, “That's just great. So now I'm not only bringing a shell shocked xenophobe to ‘Alien Central’, but I'm also dropping her right onto her phobia’s doorstep.” She grit her teeth and pinched her brow in frustration, “Fucking great.”

“Mavis has made some progress, Commander,” Chakwas said, unfazed, “I’m hopeful she will adjust quickly. Aside from their skin color and head fringe, Asari resembled humans rather closely. I think Mavis will have an easier time getting used to Mikhail's family than she did Garrus and Mordin.”

“She’s right, Commander,” Gardner chipped in, “lets try to think positive here. Sure, that little lady is on the skittish side, but she’s already faced something scarier than any Turian or Krogan wandering around the Citadel. Okay, so maybe she freaked out and set herself on fire, but at the way I see it, that’s still better than curling up in a corner and pissing herself, which she could have done, but she didn’t, right? So maybe she’ll surprise us. Mikhail seems to mean an awful lot to her so Mavis might suck it up and make the best of things for the kid’s sake. Or, Mavis will completely lose it and hit someone with a bedpan again, who knows?” Gardner gave an exaggerated shrug, “I’m just saying we shouldn’t assume the worst of her just yet.”

“Well I'm still having Garrus and Kelly make the drop off at C-Sec,” Shepard told them with a huff, “I have enough on my schedule for today without the extra headache. In the meantime, we need to locate those two and quick. EDI?” Shepard called out, “Where are they now?” she asked, ignoring Gardner's muttered “Why didn't you do that?” to Chakwas.

“It appears they are in engineering with Donnelly and Daniels at the moment, Commander,” came EDI's calm reply.

“They probably thought they could hide out down there,” Shepard mused, “Well let's go get them and see if we can convince Mavis to get off the ship.”

“I'll go inform Kelly,” Chakwas offered, “It couldn't hurt to have her help. She wanted to talk to Mavis about Mavis’ dream last night anyway.”

Shepard froze,“Dream?” she repeated, turning back to the doctor, “What dream?”

* * *

 

 

“It's nice of you to visit us, Miss Mavis,” Donnelly said happily, “Mikhail is always talking about you. I’m surprised you haven’t stopped by before now.”

Mavis smiled slightly, “Well that guy Jacob didn't want me around the more technical aspects of the ship I guess. You know,” she waved her hands in front of her dramatically, “stranger danger or something.”

Donnelly laughed, “That's Jacob alright,” he said, “So I guess if you're down here he's warmed up to you some?”

“Um...” Mavis trailed off, giggling nervously, “Not exactly. See, Jacob doesn't actually know we're down here...”

“He doesn't?” Daniels asked, breaking away from chatting with Mikhail, “Then what'd you do? Sneak away or something?”

“Sort of?” Mavis replied, unsure herself, “I guess I'm not quite ready to get off the ship just yet. I sort of...panicked. So I thought I might come down here and...well...”

“We're hiding!” Mikhail piped up with a grin.

Mavis slapped a hand over his mouth, “Playing hide-and-seek!” she amended, “Just a quick little game before we leave. Yeah...that's it...”

“Really?” Daniels said, skeptically, “Well not to ruin your...'game', but EDI can find you just about anywhere.”

“Really?” Mavis asked disbelievingly.

“For the most part, yeah,” Donnelly agreed, “though I'm not sure how much surveillance EDI has down below this deck, but I imagine it's pretty—”

“Let's play down there!” Mikhail squealed, tearing out of the room excitedly.

“Mikhail!” Mavis called, echoed by Donnelly and Daniels. She ran out after Mikhail, leaving the engineers behind.

“Shouldn't we go after them?” Donnelly asked.

“We can't just up and leave our post,” Daniels scolded, “Besides, EDI has probably told the Commander where they are. I bet you she's sending someone down to get them as we speak.”

Meanwhile, Mavis was in pursuit of Mikhail. “Slow down!” she cried, hobbling awkwardly down the stairs, the jerky movements irritating the tender skin around her waist and legs, “Mikhail, we're not allowed down here!” Mavis paused halfway down, trying to catch her breath, not used to exerting so much energy, “I know I'm not setting the best example for you by sneaking around to begin with, but that doesn't mean you should break rules further and—oof!” Mavis stopped short and tripped on the last step to avoid crashing into Mikhail.

Mikhail spared Mavis a quick glance, “Someone's already taken this hiding place,” he informed her, pointing ahead of them.

Mavis couldn’t make out anything at first, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, a lone figure began to take shape.

Sitting by themselves under one of the metal girders was a person. If Mavis squinted hard enough, she could just make out the slightest form of breast to determine it was a woman, but shadows masked any other discerning features.

At first Mavis thought with no small amount of trepidation that she had stumbled upon another alien, but upon closer inspection the unusual patterns and shapes trailing across the woman's shoulders and torso were comprised of tattoos; not the scaly surface of alien skin. The woman had a clean shaven head, and judging by the lack of scar tissue, the look was more of a personal choice than a medical one. A tattoo of some kind adorned the side of her head as well and the over all appearance of the woman gave her a rather rough and tumble sort of intimidating appearance. And she hadn't even turned to look at Mikhail or Mavis yet.

“What do you want?” The gruff voice that came out of such a lithe frame was only slightly surprising given the standoffish aura emanating from her.

“I-I...” Mavis stammered, “I...”

“We're playing hide-and-seek,” Mikhail said, tilting his head to the side and watching the stranger curiously.

The woman snorted, “Yeah well this spot’s taken if you haven't noticed,” she told them coldly, “so go find someplace else.”

“We didn't know anyone was down here,” Mavis defended.

The woman finally turned to them, a sneer fixed upon her face,“Well now you do,” she said, “so take your game elsewhere. Or better yet, play a new game; like 'William Tell' with the guns down in the hangar.”

Mavis frowned. “Mikhail,” she said, “why don't you go see if Joker has any new jokes to teach you.” She gently ushered him back towards the steps.

Mikhail turned his confused doe eyes on her before nodding slowly, “...okay, Mavis,” he replied, heading upstairs.

“Appropriate jokes!” Mavis called out after him as an after thought.

“Okay!”

Mavis turned back to the woman sitting in the corner. The sneer still etched in place, the woman's entire presence radiated _'Don't mess with me'_. Mavis couldn't help but notice with some jealousy how beautiful the woman was--stunningly so--much like that Miranda woman, though in a much more 'rough around the edges' sort of way. Yet again Mavis was hit with the niggling feeling of inadequacy she had experience on and off since the bandages were removed. “You know you didn't have to be so rude,” Mavis said after a moment.

“And you didn't have to come down here to hide from Shepard,” the woman retorted, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, “I know you're not supposed to be down here. You wouldn't have come up with such a bullshit excuse for the kid otherwise.”

“Th-that's...I...” Mavis faltered, “Well, why are _you_ down here?” she asked, turning the tables.

“Gee,” the woman said sarcastically, “that's a good question. Why would I be down here where there's a cot and a few of my meager possessions?” she scratched her chin in thought, “Hmm...it's almost like _I live down here!_ Not the smartest one, are you?”

Mavis turned scarlet, stammering, “Why would you....what are...who _are_ you anyway?” she asked, changing tactics, “You obviously know who I am, so it's only fair that I get the same advantage.”

“I'm called a lot of things,” the woman replied, musing over the list in her head, “Criminal, psycho, Subject Zero, deviant, degenerate, yadda, yadda, yadda. But you,” she said turning back to Mavis with a sharktoothed grin, “You can call me Ma’am.”

 _“Ma'am?!”_ Mavis sputtered, “why you—”

“Listen,” the woman cut her off, “Not like I don't enjoy a battle of wits with an unarmed person, but I chose this place to sleep so that I wouldn't have to deal with shrieky, whiny little princesses coming around and pissing me off,” she made a flippant gesture towards the stairs, no longer even dignifying Mavis with her full attention as she returned to her seat, “So why don't you go back to med bay and let the good doctor baby you some more before you're dropped off with all the big bad aliens you're so afraid of.”

Mavis stared at the woman, outraged. Her mouth hung open in shock; no one had had the audacity to talk to her in such away till now. Who the hell did this woman think she was?!

Mavis felt the urge to strike her, but found herself rooted to the spot. The woman exuded such raw hostility mingled with confidence that Mavis doubted it would be a fair fight with how weak she herself had been lately. She already suspected the level of strength she had exhibited back on Horizon came more out of a terror and adrenaline than any real physical prowess on her part.

Mavis stood there for a moment longer. She took several deep breaths, attempting to reign in her temper. She couldn’t beat this woman in a fight, nor in a battle of words given her opponent had much more dirt on her than the other way around. “Fine,” Mavis said through gritted teeth, “I'm sorry to have bothered you. It won't happen again.”

“Yeah, see that it doesn't” the woman replied, bored.

Mavis paused one foot on the steps. She watched the woman over her shoulder. “Bitch,” she muttered.

The woman acted as if she hadn't heard at first, but then she turned to Mavis and jerked forward at her. It might have been her imagination, but Mavis thought she saw a spark of blue crackle from the woman’s fingertips.

Mavis squeaked in fear and stumbled up the stairs in a rush, tripping over her own feet as she went.

Downstairs Jack sat back on her cot with a smirk.

“Well she was fun,” she observed smugly.

* * *

 

 

“So Shepard knows about this.” It was a statement more than a question.

“Not to the full extent,” Miranda assured. It had only been an hour or so since the ship had docked on the Citadel and Miranda had stayed behind. “Apparently Yeoman Chambers didn't feel it prudent to report directly to me on the matter before discussing it with Chakwas,” Miranda continued, “She saw it as just a nightmare and that's what she told Shepard.”

The Illusive Man took a long drag of his cigarette, “That's a rather big oversight, Miranda,” he said musingly. For anyone else, the indifferent way he regarded her would have made it all the more condescending, but Miranda was used to it.

“I assure you, had I been informed, nothing would have been disclosed to Shepard until I had deemed it of importance,” Miranda replied calmly.

“And do you?” the Illusive Man inquired.

Miranda paused at that, “I think,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “that while it is possible this was a remarkable coincidence, I believe that possibility is incredibly...slim.”

“Two people having the same dream is a rather big coincidence,” the Illusive Man observed, “and I think we know better in this day and age than to leave strange occurrences like these up to chance.”

“Like I said,” Miranda replied, “the possibility is slim.”

“More like nonexistent,” the Illusive Man corrected, snuffing out his cigarette, “Now the question is how do we proceed...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to all the people who have been sticking with me through this story despite my inconsistent updating schedule (by which I mean I have no schedule XD) 
> 
> Also a big thanks to those who have given kudos and reviewed on this story since my last update, whether it be on this site, or deviantart or ff.net. A big shout out to Wispfire+2 for his support. I really appreciate all your support. You guys mean the world to me <3
> 
> As always, read and review if you want to. It always makes my day :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We make it to the Citadel and Mavis gets some harsh truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again, people! It's great to be writing again.
> 
> Big shout out to Phil Scades for once again being my beta on this story. He's been a great help at editing my work and helping me improve in general, and frankly he is doing a better job at instructing me than my professors in college did XD
> 
> Sorry for being gone son long again. I went through the journey of losing and then regaining my health insurance which was an interesting, time consuming, and tedious adventure. But I'm back in the game now!
> 
> As usual, any canon and copyrighted characters of Mass Effect that appear in this story are property of Bioware. Any references made to any other copyrighted material is the property of their respective creators and in no way my own. I make no profit from posting this.

* * *

 

In all her years as a soldier, Shepard has encountered some bizarre things, so talking to a giant screen image of the thief she was supposed to recruit, while certainly unusual,only came in under number 15 in the top twenty weird things for this month alone.

The holoscreen abruptly flickered back to it’s original advertisement. “We should probably wrap this up,” Kasumi's voice came from behind Shepard and when the commander turned around she found a tall, slender woman woman standing above her on an upper platform, “You looked rather silly talking to an ad.”

“I've done weirder things,” Shepard shrugged.

Kasumi grinned, “Something tells me working with you is going to be fun. See you on the ship, Shepard,” she gave them a little wave and then sauntered away.

Shepard turned to Garrus, “Well, that's one thing out of the way,” she said, “I'll be honest, I thought I was going to have to go on some big errand for her first. I've had to do that before.”

“I guess she was looking forward to this recruitment,” Garrus guessed.

Shepard huffed, “Let's hope the next one we recruit is just as cooperative. I didn't sign up for any Legend of Zelda sidequest bullshit.”

“Legend of what?” Garrus asked, thoroughly confused.

Shepard shook her head, “Never mind, it's an oldie. Anyway, I take it you and Mordin can handle dropping Mavis off at C-sec? Provided you can actually convince her to leave the ship?”

Garrus nodded, “You go do what you need to do, Shepard. We'll get Mavis where she needs to be.”

“Yes,” Mordin agreed, “Will ensure they are settled with the arrangements. Should be simple matter.  Not like Omega. Less mercs, less guns. Less guns, less mess. Would also like to set up with proper follow-up treatment at Huerta. Will be crucial to Mavis’ recovery.”

Shepard smiled “Glad to hear it. Though I'm not exactly thrilled that Jacob wasn't available to do this. Supposedly he’s busy, but I'm pretty sure there's something Miranda isn't telling me.”

Garrus’ brow crinkled slightly in bemusement, “Can you honestly say that surprises you?”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I know. It's starting to piss me off. Sure, tell me to my face that I'm in charge, but all the while, work on secret operations with some hidden superior under my nose. Am I ever going to go into a mission with all the facts laid out for me, bare and honest, beforehand?”

As Shepard spoke, she made animated hand gestures in front of her, with limp wrists and head bobbing that was frankly calling more attention to herself than when she was talking to the Kasumi-advert.

Garrus looked dangerously closed to laughing at her, “Shepard, you may want to tone it down a bit...”

“I'm serious!” Shepard cried, “Watch, you'll make this civilian drop-off and Miranda will go and say, 'Surprise! That girl was actually three pyjaks in a human suit! I now have more useless intel to bring back to my boss!' And you'll laugh, and Joker will laugh, and I'll die a little inside.” She crossed her arms and pouted with a heavy sigh.

This time, Garrus actually did laugh. Mordin watched on with quiet bemusement, as though he was observing a rather interesting case of some medically-caused hysteria.

Garrus chuckled, “Just go talk to Anderson,” he pleaded, placing a hand on Shepard’s shoulder and pushing her forward gently, “We'll handle things here and I promise, if Mavis does turn out to be some pyjaks in disguise, you have my full support to rail on Miranda with your complaints. Now go.”

With a heavy sigh, Shepard relented, “Fine. But I'm telling you, there's something Lawson's hiding from us and I'm holding onto a big fat 'I told you so'. Just you wait and see.”

“Go,” Garrus laughed.

Shepard mock saluted her squadmates and watched as they walked back the way they came, most likely to try and coax Mavis off the ship.

Shepard wasn't worried though; if anyone could get the job done, and get it done right, Garrus was the perfect man--or Turian--for the job. And with Kelly’s help, Shepard couldn’t think of any reason things wouldn’t go smoothly. Worse came to worse, Garrus could probably just chase Mavis off the ship if the woman needed more urgent incentive to leave. Either way, it was no longer Shepard’s concern; there were bigger matters to attend to.

Taking a wrong turn at the same ramen shop one too many times, Shepard conceded to a detour at Avina’s VI terminal for directions. She had figured that the reconstruction of the Citadel might provide some inconvenience, but fallout from the former Council’s death turned out to be the greater problem and most routes to the Presidium had been rerouted for humans. Avina said it was to keep them out of more alien-populated areas.

Shepard sighed wearily, “People should be grateful to have survived the attack at all. Why do we have to make it an issue of races?” She glared at a random spot on the sidewalk, as if it would have all the answers, “I chose not to save the Council because civilians needed me more; the Alliance needed me more. Why do people feel the need to see xenophobia where there is none”

It took far longer than Shepard would have liked to find her way through the new routes. She had to sidestep a group of Turian C-sec officers settling a dispute between an Elcor and an Asari and scooted around a particularly harried looking human mother trying to keep on eye on more kids than she should probably have had, but Shepard eventually made it to the right door. The trouble was, she couldn’t decide if she actually wanted to go in. Her heart hammered in her chest and it felt like a mouthful of Ryncol left out in the hot sun was scalding its way down her throat, but at the same time, a strange, bubbly giddiness swelled in her stomach. She reached for the interface pad, chiding herself for how much her hand shook and how sweaty her palms were. The blast of fresh air from inside swept over her when the doors opened and a shiver went down her spine. Glancing down at her reflection in the pristinely polished floor, Shepard took a deep breath and nodded to herself; no turning back.

Anderson's back was to her, standing at the railing of his office overlooking the Presidium, not having heard her enter just yet. He stood there, seemingly waiting for her to announce herself, to give a reason to grace her with his time and for a brief moment, Shepard felt like a rookie again, a new recruit striving so hard for acknowledgment and praise. Aside from her own mother, here before her stood the one person she never wanted to disappoint, the person she most dreaded seeing her as the Cerberus hired-gun she had essentially become.

It was in that moment that Shepard considered backing out of the room and leaving the way she came, that Anderson turned to her.

“Shepard!” Anderson said, his smile radiating warmth and welcome, so wide and bright it crinkled the corner of his eyes with that familiar essence of pride and strength. The gaze many soldiers strive to see, but many never got, “Welcome back to the ranks of the living. I wasn't sure you got my message.”

He met her at the center of the room, still smiling and if Shepard didn't know any better she would say there was a bit of relief in his eyes. Relief for what, though? That she came to see him? That she stilled answered to his command? That she was alive?

“It's been a long time, Captain,” Shepard greeted, firmly shaking his proffered hand. There was a childish part of her that wanted to tell him how much she had missed him, maybe even hug him, but now was not the time for such informality. She was a soldier talking to a superior officer right now, not a child talking to their father figure.

“Ah, but it's Councilor now,” Anderson reminded her with a smirk, “I had to give up my commission when I joined the Council. Surely you haven't forgotten; it was you who chose this position for me if you recall.”

“It was either you or Udina,” Shepard pointed out, “and I would rather set myself on fire before I gave him the satisfaction of being in charge.”

“Just as I'm sure he would love to set you or anyone else ablaze if it meant getting to such a high position,” Anderson agreed with a laugh. Sobering, he stepped back to look her over, taking in her same old smile, her new scars. “It really is good to see you, Shepard,” he said gently.

Shepard shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What did you want to see me about?” She asked, ever to the point.

Anderson observed her carefully, almost disappointed by her evasion. “I'll admit I was hoping the rest of the Council would be here. Unfortunately they rarely listen to me. Sometimes I think Udina _would_ have been a better choice than me.”

“We both know that isn't true,” Shepard interjected, “No one said this was going to be easy, but I know you—you get things done.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I doubt Udina would agree. Apparently I need to work on my 'People skills',” he made a flippant gesture with his hands, “Sort of a 'pot calling the kettle black' situation if you ask me; the only people skills Udina has is rubbing elbows with people who can give him what he wants.”

Shepard nodded, “Udina knows politics, I'll give him that. Use it to your advantage; tell him what you need and have him push it through.”

Anderson scoffed, “If only it were that simple. The Council veto’s anything I suggest and nothing changes. If anything, all I'm doing is pissing them off. Truth is, unlike Udina, I'm just not one for compromising my principles. That isn't the best trait for a Councilor. But that's not what I called you here for,” he said dismissively. Anderson walked back towards the railing of the balcony, looking out over the picturesque view of all the Citadel had to offer.

Pleasantries and small talk taken care of, Anderson got to the heart of the matter, “There's been a lot of talk since you came back. Some of it has been, frankly, disturbing. The Council can't see things from your point of view; they refuse to see you, to give you a chance to explain yourself. But I was never one to condemn someone without getting their side of the story,” he added, looking over his shoulder at her, “So I sent you that message.”

Shepard shifted from one foot to the other as she listened attentively; she knew from the start what it was he wanted to talk about.

Anderson made his way back over to Shepard. “In a way I can understand the Council's trepidation. The choices you made during Sovereign’s attack cost the previous Council their lives. The new Council worries that you did it solely for the interests of Humanity; that you'll continue to put human interests ahead of Galactic concerns. Rumors that you are working for Cerberus haven't helped.” He leveled her with a concerned stare, “I know you, Shepard. You wouldn't work for Cerberus without a good reason. So what is it?”

“It's ...” Shepard began, unsure of herself. There were so many things she could say to him. So much she could unload on him, so much she could throw out there. Excuses and justifications, apologies and accusations, all of it was jumbled up in her head in such a volatile ball of conflict.

Finally, she blurted it all out and when she started, she found she couldn’t stop. “It's … so many things. There's many reasons why I did what I did, Anderson, but you have to believe me that none of it was done with the intention of turning my back on you,” she ran a hand through her hair, doing a better job of messing it up rather than smoothing it back, “People are disappearing. Human colonies are vanishing and I know that might sound to the Council like a 'humanity first' sort of intent, but nothing they've done to solve the matter has actually _solved_ anything yet and I can't just sit back and let more colonies disappear; not while knowing what I know. I mean, the Reapers' target is humankind. Are we just going to assume the sudden loss of so many humans is mere coincidence?” she scoffed, “the Council sure seems to think so. All of them but you,” she corrected herself, turning beseechingly to Anderson, “You trusted me before and it turned out I was right. So I know if anyone is going to trust me now, it's you.”

“I don't trust Cerberus,” Shepard threw out suddenly, “No more than I would a Red Sand dealer or a Batarian Slaver. I know they have their own ideas, I know they have their own goals and it's never as wholly positive or harmless as they try to pretend it is. But they believe the Reapers are involved here. The very threat I have been warning about that so many have ignored, they believe is coming. The Collectors are helping the Reapers this time and Cerberus has helped me gather proof. If they can provide me the means to fight this head on, I have to take it. There's too much at stake for everyone if I turned this opportunity down. I would have loved to be working alongside the Alliance to do this,” she admitted, “Nothing would make me happier, but the Alliance is not able to help me this time, not if the rest of the Council has anything to say about it. It isn't just humans in danger if we let the Reapers win.”

Shepard gestured out towards the Presidium, the destruction long since hauled away, but the fresh paint and new paneling and metal just as much a reminder of what damage had rested there a mere two years ago. “You saw what Sovereign did. Hitting humans was their goal, but they took the lives of anyone who stood in their way. Hundreds of lives were lost. Humans, Asari, Turians; you name it, we lost it. In the end no one is safe from the Reapers. No one I care about is safe. You, my mom, John,” _'Liara, Garrus, Tali,'_ she thought sadly, there were so many she stood to lose if the Reapers won, “I'm going to protect as many people as I can and if Cerberus is my way to do it, then I need to take it.”

“I never doubted you had the best intentions at heart, Shepard,” Anderson said when Shepard stopped to take a breath, “Not even for a second. I just needed to hear you say it. You have my support—”

“—That's not the only reason,” Shepard interrupted. She ran a hand through her hair again, this time her nails raking through crimson strands, pulling them loose from her bun and for a brief second, Anderson was given a real glimpse of the very flawed, very vulnerable human underneath the soldier.

“Shepard?”

When Shepard spoke, it was almost a whisper, “Cerberus can bring people back from the dead; I'm the proof. The Council is one of the most powerful, greatest forces I have ever known and this pseudo-terrorist group has the ability and funding to bring people back to life.” her voice grew louder as she spoke, becoming more strained, “I saved the Citadel, I was hailed as one of the Galaxy's heroes and when I died it was Cerberus that bothered to waste their time and efforts to bring me back.”

“But, Shepard,” Anderson interjected. “I know the Council can't just go around resurrecting people,” Shepard snapped, angry by the interruption, “I know…”

Anderson regarded her sadly, “If I had known such an option existed I would have done it without a second thought.”

Shepard nodded, “Yeah...I know that. I'm not saying that I wanted to be brought back. Believe me, I still have mixed feelings about that. I just mean...” Shepard looked at Anderson, her eyes belaying so much disappointment and unspoken grief, so much anger and betrayal, “I died fighting to stop the Reapers. You can try and spin that tale anyway you want—a rouge Geth ship, a surprise attack by some slavers—but we know at the end of the day that it was the Reapers who had the Normandy destroyed. They may not have been working alone, but we know they were behind the scenes. Captain...Councilor...When I die for something I poured so much of myself into...is it too much to ask that the Council carry on the work I did in my absence? Instead of trying to sweep it all away like it was never there?”

Anderson said nothing for a long time. He simply stood there and stared at her in silence. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Shepard, Anderson's eyes softened and he moved towards her. Placing a gentle hand on Shepard's shoulder, Anderson guided her over to a nearby table, wordlessly coaxing her to sit down.

“Anderson?” Shepard asked.

Without a word, Anderson left the room and returned with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Pouring himself a glass first, he moved to fill Shepard's and paused. He looked at the bottle and then to Shepard's weary face—how she stared at the drink like a dying man in the desert—and a knowing glimmer entered his eyes. He picked up the glasses and whiskey left the room a second time returning with two cups of tea instead, setting one down in front of Shepard with a soft clink. The stare he fixed Shepard at her questioning glance silenced all objections she might have.

Anderson sat down across from Shepard and sipped his tea, watching her thoughtfully over the rim of his cup. For a while, neither of them said anything and the silence was broken only by the occasional voice of tourists in the distance or the hum of a shuttle passing by.

Just when Shepard thought she couldn't take the quiet anymore, Anderson spoke.

“Just how long have you been holding this in, Reina?” he asked quietly.

Shepard stared back at him for a moment, not sure what to do. She thought of Kelly's offers for a listening ear on the ship, of Chakwas warm understanding yet quiet disapproval. She thought of long restless nights and bottles of liquor piling up on her nightstand. Lastly she thought of Garrus’ concerned, pleading face and she felt a lump form in her throat. Eyes burning, head beginning to throb, Shepard gazed upon her long time mentor and hero and finally opened up.

“...I don't know what to do...” she confessed and even just saying that, those few short words, felt like several bricks being lifted off of the lifetime of weight resting on her shoulders.

* * *

 

“Mavis,” Kelly chided, hands on her hips like a scolding mother, “We talked about this. You can't hide in here forever.”

A smile quirked her lips as she watched the top of Mavis' head peek out over the top of Gardner's kitchen counter. “Traitor,” Mavis muttered, sending a glare towards the resident cook standing besides Kelly.

Gardner raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, I didn't tell her where you were,” he insisted, “You just chose a bad hiding spot. You'd have to be as skinny as a Salarian to duck behind there and not have your ass sticking out.”

“Plus Mikhail kept peeking out at us and giggling, so you're cover was blown pretty quick,” Kelly added. She watched in amusement as Mavis—the injured woman's mouth set in a stubborn pout—wordlessly placed her hand on top of Mikhail's head and pushed him back under the table just as the giggling little boy went to make another appearance.

“Anyway,” Kelly went on, “it's time for Mikhail to see his Aunt and Auntie. They've been eagerly waiting for his arrival for days, Mavis. Don't you think it's time he sees them?”

“Mikhail can go see them, I'm not stopping him,” Mavis reasoned.

“But I don't want to go without you!” Mikhail insisted, latching onto Mavis' good arm. He looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, “Please, Mavis?”

Mavis' frown slipped slightly, “You're not playing fair here, kid,” she told Mikhail, “Using cute against me.” She ruffled his hair affectionately.

“It's not unfair if it works,” Mikhail said cheekily.

“Besides,” Kelly said, “I thought you said you wanted to stay with Mikhail.”

“I do!” Mavis stammered, jumping up. She turned to Mikhail and gave him a hopefully reassuring smile, “It's just...it's...”

“And you can't do that if you stay on the ship,” Kelly pointed out.

Mikhail turned back to Mavis, his eyes watery, “don't you want to go with me, Mavis?”

“Well...I...it's just...” Mavis gaped like a fish, looking back and forth between Kelly and Mikhail. She turned her flustered gaze to Gardner only for him to shrug uselessly at her with a sympathetic smile. Seeing no way out of this, Mavis sighed and slumped forward against the counter. “Fine,” she said, defeated, “You win. I'll get off the ship.”

“Great!” Kelly smiled, relieved.

“You get to meet my Aunties!” Mikhail cheered, tugging on the hem of Mavis’ shirt, bringing a tiny smile out of his companion.

While Mikhail clamored for Mavis’ attention, Kelly took a discrete step closer to Gardner, “I was beginning to wonder if we would have to drag her out,” she whispered.

“Have you told her who's dropping her off?” Gardner asked.

Kelly frowned, “I haven't,” she said, worriedly, “I haven't found a good way to tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Mavis asked, overhearing that last part.

“Oh, nothing!” Kelly replied hastily, her smile becoming strained, “it's just that...well...due to so many people being busy with various jobs on the ship and the docking protocols...all that paperwork and security checks...we're sort of short staffed on who’s going to uh...well...”

“The Turian and Salarian are escorting you off the ship,” Gardner stated bluntly.

Mavis blinked.

Kelly worried her lip between her teeth.

Gardner and Mikhail shared a look, both equally oblivious.

“Mavis...” Kelly began.

“No.”

“But Mavis,” Kelly tried again.

“No!” Mavis said again, louder this time, “No, no, no, absolutely not! Who's idea was that?!”

“I told you, we don't have many free hands at the moment,” Kelly explained, “Garrus and Mordin don't have any obligations or responsibilities to the ship like the rest of the crew does. Outside of their missions, they're free to leave the ship at their leisure. Jacob would have offered to go, but Miranda needs him here.”

“For what?” Mavis asked angrily. This was all too much for her.

Kelly gave Mavis the most sympathetic smile she could, “I'm afraid the details weren’t disclosed to me. But none of that matters. What matters is that I will be accompanying you as well, so you have no reason to be worried.”

Mavis was positively fuming, “This is completely unfair! At the very least someone could have told me sooner.”

“And we wanted to,” Kelly replied, “But Miranda felt that telling you beforehand would have only given you more time to worry and overwhelm yourself.”

Mavis crossed her arms stubbornly and turned away from Kelly, “Oh like this is so much better!” she scoffed, glaring at Kelly over her shoulder.

“Mavis,” Kelly said pleadingly, “Try and be reasonable. You know Garrus and Mordin now; at least enough to know they wouldn’t hurt you. Can't you make peace with them before you leave? This is your last time seeing them.”

“Yeah but...this is all so...really it's,” Mavis stammered. Looking back and forth between Gardner and Kelly, she groaned, “I'm not going to win with you on this, am I?” she said grumpily, “Fine! I guess I have no choice. But I'm still upset about this ambush.”

“Thank you, Mavis,” Kelly said, figuring begrudging compliance was the most she could ask for at this point.

“Could I say goodbye to Chakwas first?” Mavis asked, “she was busy with a patient earlier when Mikhail and I said our goodbyes, so this is our only chance.”

Kelly mulled over the request, “Alright,” she said carefully, looking over towards the Med Bay, “I suppose we have time for that.” She checked the time on her Omni Tool before casting a glance towards the Battery room, “I still need to collect Garrus and Mordin,” she added thoughtfully.

“You go do that,” Mavis said, already taking Mikhail by the hand and heading towards Med Bay, “We'll be with you in a second. This shouldn't take too long.”

Kelly observed Mavis warily, “Okay,” she said finally, “Just meet me up there after you're done.” With one more glance at Mavis and Mikhail, she walked to the elevator and left.

Mavis watched Kelly leave and then took a look around. There were still a number of crew milling about the mess hall and Gardner was back to cooking lunch, but a couple of times, she found herself making eye contact with a few people watching her out of the corner of their eyes.

“And of course she'd have people watching me,” Mavis muttered, “Of course she would.” She had to give Kelly credit, she wasn't a fool. After the last time she took off, there was no way Kelly would let a flight risk walk around again without being somewhat supervised.

“So Mikhail,” Mavis began, with false enthusiasm, “Are you looking forward to seeing your Aunt—”

“Hey, Matches,” a gruff voice called, “You got a minute?”

Turning around, Mavis noticed a man standing just a little ways down the hall from where she and Mikhail stood.

Looking around, Mavis searched the all but empty hall for any other possible person he could be talking to.

“Yeah,” the man said, knowingly, “ I'm talking to you.”

Pushing off from the wall he was leaning against, the man approached the pair at a leisurely pace, almost a swagger of a walk.

“Listen junior,” he said to Mikhail, the boy looking up at the newcomer curiously, “why don't you go on ahead and say goodbye to the good doctor while your friend and I have a talk?”

Mikhail stared at him puzzled, unsure, before looking up at Mavis questioningly.

Mavis, just as equally confused, was going to tell him to stay, but the man looked back at her and fixed her with a heavy stare, waiting expectantly. Realizing it wasn't a question, Mavis leaned down to Mikhail and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “You go ahead, Mikhail,” she said, her eyes never leaving the stranger standing in front of her, “I'll be there in a second.”

At this point used to adults on the ship making him leave the room for what Joker liked to call 'grown-up talk', Mikhail only hesitated a moment or two before gracing Mavis with a smile and running off to the Med Bay.

Standing back up, Mavis gave the man before her a once over. He was an older man, older than Gardner even if she was to hazard a guess, or maybe the frown lines in his face just made him appear that way. His hair was brown and starting to gray a little, giving him a slight salt and pepper look to his hair. He had a confident air about him; an intimidating feel to him that said clearly he was used to getting his way and knew how to get what he wanted.

Donned in a well-worn armored spacesuit, he bore a number of scrapes and scuffs on him and a fair amount of scars, but the one that drew Mavis attention the most was an odd scar on the right side of his face. It circled his eye with a mix of heavy folds and creases and distorted the skin tissue just above his cheekbone so that it protruded slightly more than it should, pulling the skin by his mouth taunt. The very edges near the corner of his eye were a faded, mottled red. His eye itself was glazed over with a whitish film of some sort; Mavis suspected he couldn't see out of it or at the very least not very well.

“A real shiner, isn't it,” the man said gesturing to his face.

Mavis flushed, embarrassed to have been caught staring, “I wasn't...”

“Sure you were,” the man replied, “no use denying it, I've had my fair share of gawking over the years. You wouldn't be the first.”

Mavis looked away, chagrined, “Still...sorry...” she muttered awkwardly and the conversation trailed away to silence.

“So,” the man said after a while, “you're the Little Match Girl everyone's been talking about.”

“I, uh...pardon?” Mavis asked.

The man smirked, “The woman who fought off husks by setting herself on fire, right?  Not the smartest strategy, but I give you credit for trying. I like the way you think; if you're going to go down, might as well take some of them out with you.”

“That's not exactly what happened,” Mavis told him.

“I know,” the man said, “You fucked up and set a fire too close to a gas can, I heard the story. Still, you'd be doing yourself a favorite to not admit to people you got yourself in that mess from your own stupidity.”

“Excuse me?” Mavis bristled.

“Don't get all huffy with me,” the guy said, “You're impulsive; I can admire that trait. Some people around here spend too much time planning things out that they miss golden opportunities to do any shit at all. But not you; you run in, kicking and screaming and blow shit up before anyone can stop you. I like that. It's...entertaining. It's a compliment.”

“How is calling me stupid a compliment?!” Mavis growled.

“Now you're putting words in my mouth,” the man was grinning now, “I never said you were stupid.”

“But you did!” Mavis squawked, “You did, I—,” Mavis stopped, collecting herself. _' He's just trying to get a rise out of you, Mavis,'_ she told herself, _'don't let the jerk get the satisfaction,'_. Breathing heavily through her nose, gritting her teeth, Mavis closed her eyes and composed herself. “Listen, Mr..”

“Zaeed,” the man supplied.

“Zaeed,” Mavis continued, “Not that this conversation isn't just...wonderful, but I don't exactly have the time to talk right now. If you wanted to make my acquaintance then you should have dropped by sooner, as I'm sure you know I'm set to leave the ship in a few minutes and I've been told I'm on a tight schedule. Now, I don't really care to know where you've been hiding all this time, but I'd prefer if you just left me alone. I'm tired, and stressed, and frankly I've got enough to deal with right now with all these freaky aliens without having you add to it with your _compliments_ ,” she hissed the last work with a sneer.

“Aw, what's the matter?” Zaeed mocked, “afraid of a few aliens?”

“I'm not—!” Mavis stopped, shaking her head, “Never mind, I'm not explaining myself again.” She turned to leave but his next words stopped her short.

“Word of advice,” Zaeed began, “but you might want to practice a little of that 'treat others how you wanted to be treated' bullshit that they teach you in preschool.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Mavis asked, turning back around.

“What do you think it means,” Zaeed sneered, “I take it you've seen a mirror recently, yes?”

Mavis stiffened, one hand coming up to touch at her face self consciously.

“Of course you have,” Zaeed continued, “Listen, the people on this ship know better than to say anything because they like you or they've been told not to, but out there,” he gestured to the wall as though he could see clear through it to the Citadel, “they don't know you, they don't know your story or what you've been through, and they don't owe even an ounce of pity or sympathy. Now the people on board here can pull punches when it comes to you and your hang-ups because you're a guest and frankly some of them aren't that far off from being as narrow minded as yourself; this is Cerberus after all,” he added as an after thought, “but in the Citadel if you go out there treating people like they're monsters, they're probably not going to give it a second thought about reminding you that half your body looks like shredded hamburger meat right now.”

Mavis flinched, turning the burned side of her body away from Zaeed. This was the first time anyone had been so cruelly honest about how she looked.

Zaeed carried on as if he hadn't noticed, “And I'm sure the Salarian has already told you that your weight is not a normal thing for humans these days either,” he pointed out, “You don't really want to go making enemies with your prejudices when your insecurities are pretty much exposed for all to see.”

“Just where are you going with this?” Mavis asked irritably.

“I'm trying to say,” Zaeed said, taking a step towards her and looking her right in the eyes, “that in here you can be a victim all you want and people overlook your refusal to get along with an alien or two. But in the real world, what you've been through doesn't give you a free pass to be stubborn or closed minded. You don't get to avoid responsibility for how you act around them. Now, I couldn't give a shit whether you become best friends with Vakarian or not, but I'm telling you for your own good that if you treat anyone on the Citadel like a freak, then their not going to hesitate to hit you where it hurts,” he gestured to her face, then down to her body to make his point, “You want to fit in, then you'll need to make a little more effort than you've been doing so far.”

Mavis glared at Zaeed, but the heat behind it was weakened by the hurt his words had inflicted.

The sound of a door opening behind them broke the silent stare-off between the two.

“Mavis?” Chakwas called, “Mikhail says you're leaving in a minute, are you going to leave without saying goodbye?” The doctor paused upon noticing who was with her patient, “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked warily.

“Not at all,” Zaeed said casually, “Just introducing myself to our guest here before she goes. I'll let you both get back to your fond goodbyes. Nice meeting you, Matches,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

“It's Mavis,” Mavis said feebly as he left.

Zaeed made no sign that he had heard her at all and just continued to walk away.

“Mavis?” Chakwas came over and placed a hand on Mavis' shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Mavis didn't reply, she just continued staring off down the hall, hurt, and somewhat ashamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I have said many times before, I would like to thank my readers, new and old for sticking with me and showing this story some attention. Your views, comments and feedback mean the world to me. The questions you ask teach me as a writer where I need improvement on story details and coherent plots points, which helps me greatly. 
> 
> Big hugs to Wispfire+2 for never losing faith in me that I would eventually get another chapter up :)
> 
> As you've probably all figured out by now, I have a very hectic, unusual home life worthy of a soap opera that tends to impede my more leisurely or fun activities, like writing. From family members being hospitalized to parent's ex boyfriends being issued protective orders (newest development), things tend to spiral out of control around here on a near hourly basis and it leaves me with little time to fit in writing. But I am determined to finish this story, so while my schedule will probably always be weird or near nonexistent, I will never abandon this story. 
> 
> Read and review, please and thank you ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mavis arrives at C-Sec and struggles to deal with her fears, as well as her hypocrisy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON!  
> Seriously, it's been HOW long since I updated this. When did I become so much of a flake? Well I suppose my writing consistency has always been flakey when it comes to keeping a schedule. Things get rather hectic for me in real life, but I'll spare you the details until after you've had a chance to read the chapter I hope you've been wanting all this time. 
> 
> As usual, I thank the wonderful Phil Scades for his marvelous beta-ing and his dedication to not only catching my spelling mistakes, but also advising me on how to stay true to the Mass Effect characters we know and love and their characterization. Seriously, some of these canon characters would probably fall flat if it weren't for his input. Long hours of writing can make my mind dull and I begin to get stagnant in my work, so it helps to have someone who can catch whenever I start to go off the rails or get lax. 
> 
> I'm going to stop with the whole disclaimer and just politely direct people to look to previous chapters if they need proof of my acknowledgment that my fanfiction is nonprofit and I own nothing but my OCs. I'm sure you are all getting tired of reading that formality every chapter.

 

* * *

 

Despite her best efforts to stall, Mavis eventually, or rather inevitably, ran out of reasons to stay on the ship. All goodbyes had long been said and Kelly actually made notes of each and every farewell to ensure Mavis didn't drag things out by saying her goodbyes twice.

 

Mavis had also exhausted the list of ailments she could use to stall; from headaches all the way to hysterical pregnancy (although that last one did buy a few minutes from sheer absurdity alone). She could no longer use bathroom breaks as an excuse either, as EDI had eventually informed Mavis that the human bladder only contains 400 to 600 ML and Mavis had gone more than enough times to have already relieved herself.

 

Therefore, it was with great reluctance that Mavis allowed an eager Mikhail to lead her by the hand to the ship's main exit. They were met by Kelly as well as Garrus and Mordin, who Mavis did her best to not outwardly cringe at. The trio must have picked up on her unease though, as Garrus and Mordin assumed the lead, while Kelly took up the middle, ensuring that Mavis would not have to walk right alongside the pair.

 

“When we get off at the docking bay, we'll be by one of C-Sec's main offices,” Garrus explained as they entered the lift down to the docking bay. He directed this explanation at Mikhail, knowing Mavis would want to be kept informed of her surroundings, but still seemed uncomfortable with him speaking directly to her.

 

Mordin nodded in affirmation, “Office holds advanced identification technology.  Facial recognition software, DNA scanners...Can’t be too careful, many immoral doctors in recent years; no codes, no ethics...Capable of altering one's appearance.  Never know when genetics doesn’t match the face.  Should be able to identify you, though.”

 

Mordin gave Mavis a careful once over before continuing, “Generations and decades of records stored on file here.  Birth dates, death dates, Citadel and Alliance keep records. You'd be in  database since birth. Scans will confirm that. Quick process; should be over in seconds.”

 

“Will it hurt,” Mavis asked.  It was a good thing that the life gave off no noise other than a subtle hum or else the others wouldn’t have been able to hear her.  As it is, they had to strain to make out the whisper that escaped her.

 

Mordin shook his head, waving the question off with a flick of his hand, he almost seemed amused, “Scans harmless, equipment very advanced.  Perhaps...radiation concerns years ago--difficulties worked out since then,”he amended when Mavis seized up in worry and Kelly shot him a rather reprimanding glare.

 

“Think of it like getting your picture taken, Mavis,” Kelly clarified.

 

“Really?” Mavis turned to Kelly, unable to hold Mordin's gaze as the doctor observed her thoughtfully.

 

Kelly nodded, smiling, “A quick flash of light; it'll just scan you and be done. The whole process takes a few seconds. Then they check the records in the terminal and everything's settled.”

 

Mavis looked down at Mikhail, “Have you ever done this?”

 

Mikhail frown, clearly in though. He shook his head, “I don't think so.”

 

“They generally don't make a big deal of it,” Garrus stated, “It's done right before you enter the office. Chances are Mikhail has just never noticed it before.”

 

The elevator made an almost unnoticeable lurch as it settled on the right floor.

 

Mavis finally seemed to relax a bit, “Okay, maybe this won't be so—,”

 

The elevator opened.

 

The place was _crawling_ with aliens.  Tall ones, short ones, Mavis was pretty sure she even saw a giant jellyfish glide out of the area just as she had arrived.

 

“...bad...” Mavis finished weakly.

 

Too stunned to comprehend anything at the moment, Mavis was blindly led off the elevator by Kelly and Mikhail.

 

Sticking close to her only human companions in the area, Mavis gazed wildly around. To the left of her there were a group of Turians like Garrus leaning against the wall, chuckling as one of them made what could only be described as a crude hand gesture towards one of his friends. Mavis assumed they were all male, she had yet to figure out how to differentiate Turian genders. She did note somewhere in her flabbergasted and anxious mind that one of them had softer, more gentle features to their face and wearing a loose fitting, flowing teal tunic.

 

Not too far from the Turians, there was a trio of humans walking out of a store chatting avidly with two Salarians and what appeared to be a human—or humanoid, Mavis couldn't be sure—clad head to toe in a suit of some sort. Mavis' curiosity battled with her wariness as she fought the urge to get closer so that she could peer into their helmet.

 

As she was guided forwards, Mavis passed another one of those Jellyfish-like creatures floating next to a human woman, the pair discussing something about living room renovations.  The casualness and ease with which they converse was enviable for Mavis, that envy making Mavis oblivious to how her fear gave way to curiosity; how did a space jellyfish talk without a mouth?

 

Mavis spared a glance down at Mikhail. Despite living on what was probably a predominantly human if not human-only colony, the boy didn't give the slightest indication that these aliens bothered him in the least.  Instead he kept himself quite happy playing with his doll.

 

So transfixed by the sheer amount of aliens around, Mavis didn’t pay attention to her immediate surroundings and nearly bumped into someone.  Only Kelly grabbing hold of her elbow at the last second prevented a near-collision.

 

“Excuse me,” came a muffled, agitated voice.

 

Mavis looked down and nearly let out a very undignified squeak as a short, plump-looking individual in a full body space suit stared up at her, tapping their foot impatiently.  While most of Mavis still cringed at being so close to something so unusual,  in the back of her head Mavis struggled with an almost bemused thought the creature in front of her had the appearance of an oversized mole with that space suit on.  She wondered, did this person look like a mole without the suit?

 

“Watch where you're going, next time,” the little alien snapped, “what if you had tripped me? You could have damaged my suit. Are you trying to kill me?!”

 

Taking Mavis silence as being another one of her ‘episodes’, Kelly stepped in on Mavis’ behalf, “Sorry, sir. My friend is new here and a bit overwhelmed. We'll be careful next time.”

 

“See that you do,” the alien huffed. With another glance at Mavis, it tutted disapprovingly and continued on it's way.

 

“Volus,” Kelly explained quietly as she prodded Mavis to move again, “Their suits are the only thing keeping their skin from bursting open in our atmosphere. They're a little high strung because of it. It had nothing to do with you, so don't take it personally. Oh, there's an Elcor!” she exclaimed merrily, pointing towards a large gray alien by a nearby food stand, “Just like Mikhail's doll, remember. Surely anyone who makes such a cute image as a children's toy can't be scary, right Mavis?”

 

Mavis made no attempt to answer, still staring after the stout, angry little alien that had reprimanded her.  ‘ _Well at least_ that _one didn’t seem very scary…_ ’ she thought.

 

Passing through a set of doors, Mavis  followed Garrus and Mordin up to a Turian standing behind a small terminal port.

 

“Hold still,” the Turian droned and a blue light fanned over Garrus. The Turian at the terminal glanced at the screen before him and nodded once, gesturing for Garrus to step aside so that the next person could be scanned.

 

The rest of Mavis' group was scanned in a similarly no-hassle manner, but Mavis hung back until last, trying to avoid the Turian and ,more importantly, the unfamiliar tech; she hadn’t forgotten Mordin’s flippant comment about radiation.

 

“You're next, Ma'am,” the Turian said disinterestedly.

 

Kelly gently nudged Mavis forward until she was standing in front of the terminal. “It'll be fine,” she promised.

 

Mavis approached the terminal, resolutely avoiding eye contact with the alien operating it. ‘ _You’ll be fine_ ,’ she told herself.

 

“Now stand still,” the Turian prompted before the blue glow from before fanned out over Mavis' body.

 

For a minute everything was going the same as it had for Kelly and the others, but then the blue light hesitated on the scan back up, flickered and beeped a low ominous tone.

 

The Turian's eyes ran over his terminal, the stiff ridges above his eyes that could possibly pass for eyebrows flexed downward slightly. “That's odd,” he ran the scan again, only to get the same result.

 

“Is there a problem?” Garrus asked.

 

“It's probably just a technical error,” the Turian assured them, his fingers moving rapidly over the keys of the terminal.

 

The scan beeped again.

 

“That doesn't make sense,” the Turian muttered. He ran the scan once more but the results came out the same, “Well, the scans not wrong...she's just...not here.”

 

Everyone's gazed turned to Mavis and she shifted self consciously under their gaze. Mordin in particular was looking at Mavis with a renewed sense of curiosity and interest.

 

“I’m...uh, standing right here,” Mavis said dumbly.

 

“He means you’re not in the database,” Garrus explained kindly, but the look on his face was one of concern.

 

Mavis blanched at that, “But you said I would be!”

 

The C-sec officer placed a hand to the communication device by his head, speaking to someone on the other line, “We have a situation here, be on stand by.”

 

“Is that really necessary?” Kelly asked.

 

“Your friend's information isn't registering in the database,” the Turian explained, “her name, her biometrics...none of it is recorded here.” He turned to Mavis, his expression grim, “We'll need to take you back for further questioning, ma'am.”

 

All the color drained out of Mavis' face as the Turian made a call to have some officers meet them at the terminal.

 

“Now hold on,” Kelly interjected, stepping in front of Mavis protectively, “let's be reasonable, Officer...”

 

“Sergeant Haron.”

 

“Sergeant Haron,” Kelly continued, “This woman here is a survivor of a very harrowing ordeal; surely we can address this matter without getting hostile.”

 

“You were contacted earlier this week about a Jane Doe to be delivered here from the Horizon Colony, didn't you?” Garrus questioned.

 

“Yes, but we were under the impression that she was to be identified when she got here. What you've brought me is an unknown, unregistered human,” Haron replied.

 

“But how can that be?” Kelly insisted, “There's no way that in all her years of living she hasn't once come into contact with the registration process and been entered into the databases.”

 

“I don't know why she isn't, but I intend to find out,” Haron stated, turning to Mavis.

 

Garrus stepped between them, staring Haron down, “We assure you that she is no danger to anyone.  If you will camly lead us to your office, this can be settled in a matter of minutes.”

 

The unspoken threat was so clear, even Mavis picked up on it. _‘Don’t touch the girl.’_

 

Mavis found herself surprisingly grateful for Garrus in that moment.

 

Mikhail glared at Haron, clinging to Mavis' hand protectively.

 

“There's no reason to apprehend her,” Garrus insisted when Haron made no move to step down, “Mavis is unarmed and poses no immediate threat to anyone; your scans should have picked up on that at the very least.”

 

“True,” Haron agreed, “No weapons were detected and she carries no known infectious diseases. But she is isn't registered.”

 

“The rest of us are, though,” Garrus pointed out, “And our ability to look after Mavis can be vouched for by Commander Shepard. I believe she was already through here today?”

 

“Shepard, Reina; Spectre status reinstated. Yes, that's all here,” Haron nodded, reading off the records in the terminal.

 

“One call to Shepard and you'll have Spectre clearance to let Mavis through.  Captain Bailey can clear things up from there,” Garrus said with finality, “As you are aware, the child in our custody has relatives waiting for him in the office and it would be best not to keep them waiting.”

 

A brief staring match went on between the two strong willed males before Haron finally relented, “Fine, if you'll all come this way, we'll see what Bailey has to say about this.”

 

Kelly pulled Mavis towards her, allowing the woman to cling to her for comfort, “Don't panic yet, Mavis. Just be patient and we'll get this all sorted out.”

 

“You didn’t say they would want to arrest me!” Mavis hissed.

 

“They don’t! They’re just being extra cautious.  C-Sec can’t let just anyone walk into the Citadel,” Kelly assured.

 

“Well I’m not just anyone,” Mavis said petulantly, “Last I check, I’m pretty much a nobody right now.”

 

Mikhail stared up at Mavis worriedly, giving her a hug around the middle.

 

The doors behind Haron opened and two C-sec officers walked out, this time a Turian and a human male.

 

Haron nodded to them, “Pensley, Aros, if you could escort this group to the office. The Captain will need to speak with them.”

 

The officers nodded. “This way please,” the Turian said in a gentle tone, causing Mavis to falter slightly; she hadn't realized this one was a woman.

 

The female Turian gestured to her human companion to take position behind Mavis' group while she took up the front and they were led through the doors.

 

As they walked along, the group passed several offices and room bustling with activity.  One office had a rather irate human couple arguing with a uniformed officer about a domestic dispute and nearby, a Turian was ranting about being charged for an unpaid ticket due to illegally parking somewhere.

 

“I’m a public official!  I’ll have your job for this, human!” the Turian cried.

 

The officer rolled his eyes and replied rather boredly, “Mr. Talid, your political standing does not make you above the law.  Just pay the fine and you can go.”

 

One door Mavis and the others passed was closed, but from inside, a rather humorous argument seemed to be taking place.

 

“She’s lying!  I never touched her.  I’ve never sexually harassed anyone.  She’s an Elcor, for Christ sakes!” an outraged voice yelled from inside the room.

 

Mavis laughed in spite of herself; nearly arrested or not, she couldn’t deny that was funny to hear come out of anyone’s mouth.

 

When they rounded a corner at the end of the hall the Turian female moved towards a human seated behind a desk to the right; an older man with stern but tired features plunking away at the keys in front of him. “Captain, you're assistance is required here,” she said to the man.

 

“Second time today,” the man rumbled in a gruff voice, looking up at them, “What is it this time?”

 

“Good to see you Bailey,” Garrus greeted amicably.

 

Bailey's eyes lit up in recognition. “Vakarian! Never thought I’d see your ugly mug around here again” Bailey stood up and walked around the desk to give Garrus a friendly clap on the shoulder.  “Gotten a little uglier, I see.”

 

Garrus snorted, “And I can see you haven’t changed at all.”

 

Bailey waved away the two officers that brought them in, “I’ve got to say, it’s not the same around here without you, Vakarian.  It used to be I couldn’t turn around without you or Shepard causing some sort of fuss; pissing off the Council, messing with reporters, threatening thugs...good times. And then she went and died on us--temporarily at least, I guess--and you disappeared without so much as a resignation notice.  Heck, I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.  Glad to know the answer was very much alive.”

 

Bailey returned to his seat and sat down, looking up at Garrus expectantly, “But I'm sure you didn't come to exchange pleasantries and reminisce. So, what can I do for you?”

 

Kelly was the one who launched into an explanation, “As you already know, today you are receiving two refugees from Horizon, one of which lacks identification. We were hoping your records could help us place Mavis, but it seems she...isn't on file according to the system. We need to settle the matter so that she won't be viewed as a hostile threat.”

 

Bailey cocked an eyebrow, “The scanners here are the most adept in the galaxy. Are you asking us to not be concerned about an unknown woman just waltzing into the Citadel without any background information on her?”

 

“Mavis has suffered a great deal of trauma during her time on Horizon due to the attack on the colony. She has been under our constant surveillance since she was brought aboard the Normandy; I can assure you she is no threat. We're just baffled as to why there is no record of her in the system.”

 

Bailey leaned back in his chair, regarding Mavis carefully, “Well that could be for a number of reasons, I suppose. There are some human extremist groups who might be trying to further distance themselves from alien contact by keeping newborns unregistered with Alliance data records. Not very likely though; the Alliance tries to keep tabs on groups like Terra Firma to keep them under our jurisdictions. There's also the chance she wasn't born in Alliance space at all. If her mother was kept by slavers and brought over to Batarian space before she was born, she technically wouldn't be registered with us at her birth. But then again, a scan of her would have revealed the registered DNA of her parents or grandparents if they were in the system.”

 

The more Bailey talked the less answers anyone had and Mavis' anxiety only grew with every new question that came to her mind. It didn't help that everyone was talking about her like she wasn't even there.

 

Bailey laced his fingers together and eyed Mavis curiously, “Our scans show you don't have any particularly unusual gene mods, but as far as our systems are concerned, you don't exist. What's your story, Miss?”

 

“Uh...” Mavis stammered, feeling rather small under Bailey's unflinching gaze.

 

“She doesn't know,” Mikhail piped up.

 

“Come again?” Bailey asked.

 

Kelly quickly interjected on Mavis' behalf, “Mavis suffers from severe memory loss, Captain Bailey. Who she is is just as much a mystery to her as it is to us.”

 

“And this memory loss claim can be substantiated?” Bailey inquired, giving his files sent from Haron's terminal a once over.

 

“Dr. Chakwas, our primary practitioner on the Normandy has given her a thorough examination. And Dr. Solus can vouch for Mavis' condition," Kelly explained, gesturing to Mordin.

 

Mordin nodded, “Signs of possible head trauma noted in initial tests. Nothing too severe...but... could be cause of temporary damage. Full examination data private...doctor patient confidentiality.  Need permission."

 

“What?” Mavis asked, startled to realize that last comment was directed at her, “Are you asking if I give consent?  I mean, yeah I could do that.  I guess if it will help things along...”

 

Mordin nodded approvingly and brought up her file on his Omni-tool, transferring to Bailey's terminal.

 

Bailey looked over the exam notes quietly, “I can’t say I know much about this stuff myself, but there’s nothing alarming that jumps out at me.  I’ll send the files over to our experts in the med lab.  We’ll have the results back in a few hours. In the Meantime, I can give her a temporary clearance to be on the Citadel, provided she is under surveillance.”

 

“That’s fine,” Kelly said quickly before Mavis could protest.

 

“But if we want to at least put the matter of if she is a threat to rest, furthering questioning would be necessary,” Bailey continued.

 

“What do you have in mind?” Garrus asked.

 

“A quick hook up to our neurological sensors would be able to weed out whether or not she is lying. It could pick up the changes to her brain when falsified statements are made,” Bailey explained.

 

“Like what C-sec uses for interrogations?” Garrus questioned.

 

Mavis whipped around to stare at him incredulously.

 

“It's harmless, Mavis,” Garrus assured her.

 

Bailey nodded, “The very same device, Vakarian. Of course we can't use it without consent—you know how the legal system is—but if Mavis agrees to it, it will settle the matter of her threat level real quick. At least for the meantime; we will still need to do some thorough background checks to truly instate an ID for her.”

 

“So it's like a lie detector test?” Mavis asked.

 

Bailey looked at her bemused, “A bit oversimplified way of putting it, but yes I guess you could call it that. Technically though this is far more accurate. A few authorities on Earth still use polygraphs on suspects, but that's not nearly as effective. It picks up on physiological responses—blood pressure changes, quicken pulse, etc—and chalks it up as a sign the person is responding physically to a lie. Pretty faulty if you ask me; get someone half cocked on some Valium and they could pass a polygraph test even if they told you they were Nixon's love child with an Asari empress.”

 

“So if Mavis passes your screenings she'll be allowed to enter the Citadel?” Kelly asked, trying to bring Bailey back on track.

 

“If she passes, she won't be detained,” Bailey agreed, casually moving some files on his desk out of a curious Mikhail's reach.

 

“Mavis, do you think you could take a moment and answer some questions for Captain Bailey?” Kelly asked.

 

Mavis gently took Mikhail's curious hands into her own to still them in their quest to touch everything on Bailey's desk. Picking the boy up to balance on her hip, she turned to give Kelly her full attention. “I...uh, yeah I could do that. You said it wouldn't hurt?” she added looking to Garrus.

 

Garrus nodded, happy to just have Mavis willing to talk to him directly despite her previous reservation about him; she was probably too overwhelmed by Bailey to really focus on her other fears at the moment.

 

“Then I'll do it,” Mavis said, putting on a brave face, “So what do we do now?”

 

Bailey stood up, gesturing them to a room off to the left. “If you'll follow me, we'll get this out of the way.”

 

Once Mavis and the others filed into the room, Bailey directed Mavis to sit down in a chair while he asked an officer outside the door to fetch something for him.

 

Seating Mikhail on her lap, Mavis sat down and attempted to choke down the rush of anxiety building up inside of her. It dawned on her they were seated it what was probably an interrogation room; the realization doing nothing to settle her frazzled nerves.

 

“There we go,” Bailey said as the officer returned.  Set down on the table between Bailey and Mavis was a sleek and thin device.

 

“Let’s just get you situated,” Bailey began.  He slipped the device over Mavis the same way one would a headband and touched something on the side of it by her ear.  As he did, a thin, clear screen slide out of the top part of the mechanism and folded around Mavis’ face like a vr helmet, only less bulky.  Another button Bailey pressed made the sides of the headband adjust to Mavis’ head size, gently but firmly pressing against Mavis’ temples with a click.  

 

Bailey then offered Mavis a pair of circular metal discs and had her hold her wrists out.  The discs latched onto Mavis’ wrists without any conceivable means of adhesive and with a flip of a small switch, the discs opened up and a series of spindly metal wires unfolded out from their sides and ran up along Mavis’ hands, wrapping and fastening onto her fingertips and applying a small amount of pressure.

 

“To monitor your pulse,” Bailey explained helpfully.

 

Bailey turned on his Omni-tool, waiting a second or two to make sure the devices were all synced up properly.  When everything seemed to be in order, he gave Mavis his full attention.

 

Mavis took a deep breath to calm herself.  The comforting weight of Mikhail's head against her chest was reassuring at least, even if she did have to carefully pry his hands away from the devices on her.

 

Bailey began his questioning, “Let's start with an easy one. What's your name?”

 

“Mavis,” Mavis replied.

 

“Do you have a last name?”

 

“I don't know,” Mavis said.

 

“You do not remember it?” Bailey asked.

 

“No,” Mavis confirmed.

 

“Do you remember your age?”

 

“Yes,” Mavis nodded.

 

“It says here you are twenty-six, is that true?” Bailey asked, looking over Mavis' records from the Normandy.

 

“That's what I think, yes,” Mavis agreed.

 

Bailey looked at her strangely, “That's what you _think_?”

 

Mavis shrugged, “It was sort of an...almost memory that came to me. It came out instinctively when Chakwas was talking to me.”

 

Bailey nodded, examining his readings on her, “Any other memories been recalled since then?”

 

Mavis shook her head, “Nothing too detailed, no names or faces. But I remembered a holiday and maybe a talk about eating dinner with family. That's about it.”

 

Bailey tapped a few buttons on his Omni-tool, “Let's cut to the chase; do you know who you are?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you remember why you are here?”

 

Mavis shook her head, “No.”

 

“Did someone send you?” Bailey pressed.

 

“I don't know,” Mavis stated.

 

“Do you have any interest in harming anyone, on the Citadel or otherwise?”

 

“Of course not,” Mavis said.

 

“You do not know your origin?”

 

“No,” Mavis said, exasperated.

 

“Hmm,” Bailey sat back, scratching his head.

 

“So what's the verdict, Captain,” Kelly asked, still standing protectively next to Mavis.

 

Bailey looked at the scanner a moment longer, then sighed and shut it down. “As far as her brain waves indicate, she's telling the truth,” he said, reaching over to assist Mavis in taking off the device, “While she has no memories there is no ulterior motive that she can recall for being here. When her memory comes back something new might be revealed, but that will require further monitoring of her. For now, she has clearance to enter the Citadel. But be warned, it is restricted clearance; she will need to be under someone's supervision in the meantime.”

 

“Mikhail's Aunt has agreed to look after her,” Kelly explained, “You can set up some form of agreement with them on her supervision.”

 

Bailey seemed satisfied with that answer, “She’s a inactive soldier for the Alliance, I suppose she makes for a trusted supervisor.  Well then, I'll put a mark on file for Mavis and we will begin a check into any possible background for her.”

 

Bailey led them back into the main section of the office. As they were getting Mavis' forms squared away, a harried looking woman with dirty blonde hair rushed into the office, “Is he here yet?” she asked frantically.

 

“Auntie!” Mikhail cried.

 

The woman turned towards them and Mavis was met with a pair of strikingly familiar hazel eyes.

 

“Mickey!” The woman cried, rushing towards him.

 

Mikhail wiggled out of Mavis' arms and ran to meet the woman, “Auntie Anna!”

 

Engulfing her nephew in her arms, Anna held Mikhail close to her like he was the most precious thing in the world. “Mickey, oh you poor thing,” she murmured. She pulled back and ran her hands over Mikhail's face, lingering on the fading scratches on his cheeks before smoothing her hands up and down his arms, “Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?” Not waiting for a response, she crushed him against her chest again, running her hands through his hair and murmuring words of endearment softly.

 

“Mrs. Koskov?” Bailey asked, calling Anna's attention to him.

 

Anna looked up, “Oh, yes,” she replied, a bit frazzled still as she carried Mikhail over to the main desk. She managed to extract an arm from the tangle of limbs and hold out her hand to Bailey for him to shake, “Anna Koskov; nice to meet you. I'm here to pick up Mikhail. Thank you for contacting me.”

 

“It wasn't me who did it,” Bailey pointed out, looking past Anna at Mavis and the others.

 

Anna followed his gaze, her eyes trailing over all of them before landing on Mavis, no doubt drawn by the ghastly scars on Mavis' face.

 

Noticing her stare, Kelly subtly intervened, “Mrs. Koskov? I'm Yeoman Chambers. I contacted you about Mikhail's rescue from Horizon.”

 

“Yes, thank you,” Anna said, moving forward to take Kelly's hand, “Sorry, it's just been so hectic since I heard the news. What happened on Horizon...I..,” she glanced down at Mikhail, not wanting to upset him by bringing it up, “Really, I am grateful. For everything.”

 

Kelly smiled sympathetically, “I'm sorry this has been so hard on you. Um, this is Mavis...” she placed a hand on Mavis' forearm, “she was...found with Mikhail on the colony. We discussed her staying with you.”

 

Anna nodded, her eyes falling back on Mavis, “I recall. Um, Mikhail, sweetie,” she placed her nephew on the ground and reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of candy, “why don't you sit with Captain Bailey for a bit. There's something I want to discuss with the grownups.”

 

Mikhail was more than happy to accept the candy, oblivious to the tension in the air as he wandered over to Bailey.

 

Anna turned her focus back to Mavis, “You...you protected Mikhail?” she asked, her gaze trailing over the various scars along Mavis face.

 

Mavis swallowed hesitantly, “Yeah...”

 

“You saw my sister?” Anna asked quietly.

 

Mavis felt a lump forming in her throat, “She asked me to take care of him.”

 

Anna nodded. Taking Mavis hands in her own, she gave them a squeeze, “And I can't thank you enough for that, really, you have no idea how much it means to me to know that at least he is safe.”

 

Mavis shrugged, not really sure what to say, “Anyone would have done it...”

 

Anna smiled sadly, “You took a risk you didn't have to take; not just anyone would do that. Listen, we were told you don't have any current living arrangements since Horizon was attacked. My wife was very insistent that you stay with us. If you wish to go somewhere else, we'll be happy to help you, but we figured you and Mikhail...”

 

Mavis smiled gently, “I'd like to stay with Mikhail if that's alright.”

 

“More than alright,” Anna assured, “Normally they probably wouldn't allow us to do this with a stranger, but given the circumstances—and Eelun's connections—well...she was very insistent and—”

 

A loud, rather boisterous but feminine voice interrupted them, “Where are they?!”

 

A figure rounded the corner into the office and managed to catch the attention of just about everyone in the area.

 

It was an Asari, if Mavis recalled Kelly explaining to her on the ship. The woman—monogender or not, those were clearly a prominent set of breasts—was dressed in a fine, silk dress almost as azure as her vivid skin. Another very inhuman trait was the odd set of ridges—scalp crest, Kelly had called them—trailing from the top of her head to just above the base of her scalp.

 

To Mavis her appearance was just as startling as any other alien Mavis had seen, but apparently that opinion was not shared by the majority of the people around her. The Asari's voluptuous figure caught the eye of many of the officers in the room as she brushed past them all as if floating on air. Clutched in her arms was what appeared to be a young Asari child, the same striking blue color as the one who was holding her.

 

The Asari's lavender eyes swept over the office before landing on Mikhail, “There's my little sunbeam!” she cried happily.

 

Mikhail, having been preoccupied with having his Elcor doll make an arduous trek across Bailey's desk, looked up and a wide smile broke across his face, “Auntie Eelun!” he squealed.

 

Eelun dropped to one knee to catch Mikhail as he flung himself into her arms and with a surprising amount of strength for someone of her frame, she hefted him up with no sign of trouble. Still clutching her own child in her other arm, Eelun balanced Mikhail on the opposite hip as she moved further into the office.

 

“My brave little soldier!” Eelun cooed, giving Mikhail a series of kisses on the face and forehead, “I'm so glad you're safe. If they didn't get you here any sooner, I was going to hijack a ship and fly out to collect you myself! And no one wants that,” she added in a gruff voice like she was the wolf in _Little Red Riding Hood_ , “Big bad Eelun shouldn't be tearing across the galaxy causing trouble, no she shouldn't.” Bouncing both children in her arms, Eelun nuzzled Mikhail's face then her own child's as they laughed under her attention.

 

“Bea'la, you remember your cousin, Mikhail, don't you?” Eelun asked her daughter.

 

Bea'la nodded smiling at Mikhail.

 

“Say hello,” Eelun prompted, placing the two on the ground.

 

The second her feet touched the ground, Bea'la wrapped her arms around Mikhail in a hug, the pair smiling from ear to ear and giggling.

 

“That would be Eelun,” Anna explained to Mavis, watching her wife and the children fondly.

 

Having heard her name, Eelun looked up and directed her attention to the other side of the room, “Oh, there you are, love,” she said, still as loud and bright as she was when she walked in, “And they must be from the rescue team,” she said gesturing to Kelly and the others.

 

Letting go of Bea'la, Mikhail tugged his cousin over to the others, “This is Mavis,” he declared happily grabbing hold of Mavis' hand.

 

“Of course she is,” Eelun said merrily, striding over to them with a huge grin stretched across her face, “Here's our hero!”

 

Getting a gentle pat on the back by Kelly, Mavis slapped on a nervous smile, “Nice to meet you ma'am,” she said.

 

“Come on now, none of that Ma'am stuff,” Eelun insisted, “you'll be staying with us, that makes you honorary family for now. I'd say that warrants first name basis, don't you? Come here,” she moved to hug Mavis, but Mavis took a step back.

 

Kelly cut in, “As I mentioned during our communications, Mavis is not familiar with many alien species and is still getting used to things. She may come off a little jumpy from time to time.”

 

Eelun seemed completely unfazed by Mavis' behavior, “That's right, so things are all new to you, then. Wow, are you in for a treat. There's so much to see on the Citadel and you get to experience it all for the first time. It'll be like a vacation; I'm almost jealous,” she was positively beaming at Mavis, “So no hugging for now. That's fine. How about a handshake?” she thrust her hand out in front of her, her perfect smile showing off pristine, white teeth.

 

On instinct, Mavis almost recoiled from Eelun again, but as she was about to, she caught site of a pair of human women C-sec officers a few feet away from them watching her group in what they probably thought was a discreet manner. Their eyes flickered to Mavis more than a couple of times as they whispered to each other and it may have been Mavis' self conscious imagination, but she could have sworn that the gestures one of them made to their face was in reference to her.

 

Mavis knew at this point she couldn't be surprised that anyone was taking such notice of her appearance; she had been taken aback more than a dozen times in mirrors since the gauze came off. But that didn't make it hurt any less to have someone staring. On the Normandy, people had been kind enough to just pretend they didn't notice, but chances are they were a little shocked themselves by how bad her scars were. Now she had a group of people looking at her like she was the bizarre one.  Her, a member of their own species!

 

Recalling Zaeed's harsh words back on the ship, Mavis bit her lip, resolutely not looking back at the officers. They didn't know her, they had no right to judge her. And then here was Eelun looking at her with so much kindness. Her eyes hadn't trailed over Mavis' scars even once, when not even Anna had been unable to resist staring.  

 

If Mavis recalled correctly, Haron hadn’t seemed to think there was anything strange about her...well at least until the scans had come back wrong.  So far the people making Mavis feel self conscious were humans, not Aliens.  And certainly not Eelun.  Eelun was looking at her like a person instead of an oddity...and here Mavis was hesitating to so much as touch her hand. Suddenly Mavis felt like as big of a jerk as the people rudely staring at her.

 

Steeling herself, Mavis looked at Eelun and gave her another smile, this time, hoping it was friendly. Squeezing Mikhail's hand gently for strength, she took Eelun's hand and gave it a quick shake, “Thank you for offering me your home.” If her voice came out warbly, she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

 

“We should be thanking you,” Eelun replied, “We owe you so much for getting Mikhail out of there safely. After sticking your neck out for him, you shouldn't be tossed into the system like some wayward runaway. There's a difference between C-sec housing and a home.”

 

“It's like I said, Eelun's very insistent that you stay with us,” Anna joined in, “And once she makes her mind up on something, there's no changing it.”

 

“I'll get the paperwork taken care of,” Eelun stated, not waiting for a reply as she headed off towards Bailey's desk.

 

Feeling a light tugging on her wrist, Mavis looked down. Standing by her side was the little Asari, Bea'la. Mavis wasn't exactly sure how she felt about alien children. Sure they looked just as strange and foreign to her as the adults but...well they were just _kids_ , “Um...hi?”

 

Bea'la gazed up inquisitively at Mavis. After a few moments of quiet staring, her face broke out in a wide grin, revealing two missing front teeth, “Can I touch your hair.”

 

Mavis blinked, “I...uh...what?”

 

“Your hair,” Bea'la repeated, already reaching her hands up expectantly.

 

Anna was all too willing to explain, “Bea'la has a little hair fixation. It's fascinates her. Most alien races don't have hair in such large amounts as we humans do. Every time she meets a human, Bea'la wants to play with their hair.”

 

“Oh,” Mavis said, looking back down at Bea'la as the child continued to lightly pull on her sleeve, “Um...sure...” Kneeling down so that she was at eye level with Bea'la, she crouched there uncertainly, not really knowing what to expect next.

 

Carefully picking up a segment of Mavis' hair, Bea'la ran her fingers through it. Rubbing the black locks between her fingers, she ran the ends over her skin and pushed her hands through the strands to let them fall in a cascade. Standing on tiptoe, she reached forward and pulled Mavis' forward a bit so that she could look at the red roots of her natural hair color, smoothing her hands over Mavis' scalp. She grazed the peach fuzz growing over the left side of Mavis head and giggled at the tickling texture. After a thorough inspection, she relinquished Mavis' head and stepped back. Tucking her hands behind her back, she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet with a happy hum. “You're hair's pretty,” she said shyly.

 

Mavis couldn't help it; she smiled. To be fair Asari _were_ the closest in human appearance that she had seen so far. The head fringe and the skin color was a little off putting honestly, but they had all five fingers and a familiar body structure and normal eyes and noses; when Mavis heard that some species had two sets of eyes she nearly fainted. If Mavis imagined Bea'la with a more normal skin tone and maybe some hair on her head, she would almost look like a human girl and as a human she would be adorable. So maybe the kid was cute, even if she was an alien.

 

“Paperwork's done,” Eelun called, “Let's go get everyone settled and then we can show our guest around.”

 

“I hope you don't mind if I come with you. I would like to make sure Mavis is settled before I return to the ship,” Kelly said, “And while the Normandy is docked on the Citadel, I'd like to check in on Mavis from time to time so that I know she's doing okay.”

 

Anna nodded, “That's fine. I'm sure Mavis wouldn't mind a few visits from her friends before you all head back out.”

 

Garrus stepped away from the group, “I'll be heading back now that things are taken care of here. Shepard will want to know things went smoothly.”

 

Mordin hummed in assent, “I’ll stay.  Huerta staff need to be informed.  Could transfer files, but...must ascertain staff is capable to continue treatment.  Do not want someone negligible,” he took a deep breath, eyes closed as though he was relishing the thought of interrogating the doctors, “Will go there personally.”  Mordin didn't bother to say goodbye, he just turned and walked away.

 

“Take care of yourself, Mavis,” Garrus said kindly.

 

“Oh...uh, you too,” Mavis replied, even managing to look Garrus in the eye for once, “Thanks for...you know...bringing me here.”

 

Mavis was starting to become familiar with some Turian expression since her time around Garrus and she was pretty sure that was a relieved smile he gave her before he waved and walked away.

 

As the group began to head out of the office, Anna pulled Mavis aside so that the children couldn't hear, “I'm sorry if we came on a little strong in there. This must be overwhelming for you ...and after all that you've been through recently,” she spared a glance in the kids' direction, “Since we got the call from Kelly, we've been trying to stay positive. There's still no proof that Katiana is gone for good. I don't think Bea'la really grasps the situation; she probably thinks that Katiana and Richard just went on some vacation for a while and that Mikhail is having one big sleepover with us. Maybe that's for the best. I doubt Mikhail has really let it sink in yet what has happened. Either that or he's in denial. So for now, we'll just all try to keep a brave face. For the kids' sake, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” Mavis said slowly “Yeah, I can understand that.” Deep down, Mavis wondered if that brave face was for Anna's own sake as much as it was for Mikhail's. It was true that no one had any idea what became of those abducted from the colonies, but in her gut, whenever Mavis thought about Katiana she couldn't shake a sinking feeling of loss cemented in some unexplained finalization. Telling herself her gut instincts had been wrong several times already that she could recall, she did her best to believe it was all in her head. Until she knew the truth for sure she would just focus on the future. Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately right now that future held a whole different kind of uncertainty for her, in the form of bright lights and crowded markets as she and the others weaved their way through the bustling Citadel that was to be her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me so long, everyone. I'm sure many of you get tired of waiting on fics written by inconsistent writers and I hate being one, (it makes this blog post far to relevant http://hotlegmeme.tumblr.com/post/145102640213/frenchfriedlonliness-sian22redux )  
> but sometimes it is a real struggle for me to keep on top of things. 
> 
> As you all know, my life is sort of difficult and often times compromised by many unfortunate emergencies I have no control over. A family member of mine, a person I live with, has in recent months become the unfortunate target of bullying and harassment by a group of individuals in my town who fancy themselves to be a new religion of "truth" when in fact they are nothing more than an up and coming Charles Manson-based cult. 
> 
> On top of that, I have acquired a new job that led to some stressful nervous breakdowns that resulted in my immediate placement with a new doctor who has addressed the inadequate medical care I have received thus far and acknowledged a problem I have known of for years but been unable to get anyone in my family to accept: I have PTSD. 
> 
> So please bare with me as I deal with the frequent unheavals of my life. I don't like leaving you all hanging so often, but my anxiety and my depression couldn't give a flying F**K about what I want to do for fun. 
> 
> A big thanks to Wispfire+2 for being such an avid fan and reader who has given me so much comfort online in our emails. You really help me keep going. Also, shout out to my new penpal Mr Welsh! You're a great friend and confidant and I am thrilled you enjoy my story :)
> 
> Read and review please, it sustains me.


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